The 4th of July is a good time for reflection. Too often our view of freedom is jaded. May we always remember that our freedom truly is a privledge, not simply a right.

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Tonight, we headed back to our former stomping grounds and watched the fireworks show on the football field of our high school. Matter of fact, it is the same place we spent our first 4th of July together, as a family of three...er, five. Allow me to explain:

Spencer was just about seven months old and as most giddy new parents, we were absolutely pumped about sharing this first with our little guy. Alfonso had an even better idea...he suggested we bring our two (big) dogs to share in the fun. I remember being hesitant, but he assured me, they'd be "just fine". (He may have a different story to re-tell, but this is MY blog). We had the stroller, the baby bag, the jar food and the all the "just in case" paraphernalia you carry as first time parents. We were prepared for anything. Almost anything, that is.

Spence and I were bundled up under the blanket waiting for that first big boom. We had the dogs tied nice and secure to the stroller to free up our arms. That's when it happened. The first boom was one too many for our dog, Scout. He took off! That would have been simple enough to handle, but along with him went the stroller, baby gear, and our other dog, Cooper (he simply had no other choice). Needless to say, we missed the entire show as we used each and every flash of light to re-gather the loot. It was absolutely everywhere! Sometimes a "ruined" experience makes for a wonderful (and funny) memory.

We had a great dogless time tonight. Spencer enjoyed the story of his first 4th of July and hootin' and hollerin' at the fireworks. And we...we lived vicariously.