Daniel had bought far too many fireworks, forgetting that we still had several left over from last year and the year before when he also bought far too many, so we loaded everyone up in the car and went off in search of a place to explode things. We ended up driving around for 1 1/2 hours before we found a place that it was allowed. Thank goodness for the DVD player in the van. I put on a movie for the kids and they didn't mind the drive.
Once we finally found a spot we had a lot of fun. We were on a little dead-end road right next to a field of cows. They (the cows) watched for a while and then got a little annoyed at all the noise and walked down to the other end of the field. There were lots of tank battles and exploded army guys and little fires built and general male excitement about blowing things up. There aren't really any restrictions here about what you can do, so lots of ours were flying-up in the air ones, which was fun.
The kids loved all the explosions, although Oliver's favorite part was at the very end when we gathered up all the trash and set it on fire. Oliver kept trying to set fire to everything with his sparklers.
The most bizarre thing happened when we were about to leave. We had all of the kids in the van, all strapped in, and we were anxious to get out of there because Rachel and Lizzy were both super tired and crying. A truck full of people had pulled up to our same spot, planning to use it when we left, and all of a sudden a very large and very muddy dog came running up to our van and jumped inside. It scrambled back in between the two benches, much to the alarm of all the children. It was trying to jump up on Tristan and scratching him all over, and he couldn't escape because he was buckled in. Then it wedged itself in between the benches and just stayed there. The guy who owned it came walking up kind of laughing, but we had seen how muddy the dog was, and we didn't think it was funny. Plus, all four of the kids were panicking now and the girls were screaming. Daniel asked the guy to get his dog out, and he said, "oh, he just wants a ride." Ha, ha.
THEN, for 10 minutes at least, he tried unsuccessfully to get his dog out, acting the whole time like it was our fault. I couldn't believe it. The dog was so fat it had kind of gotten stuck, and the guy said he didn't want to pull on his legs because it might hurt him. So he just kept saying, "come on, get out." Daniel and I were getting more and more frustrated, but we didn't know how to get him out, either, and didn't know if it was a biting dog. The guy kept saying, "well, maybe we should take all the seats out of the car." As if that would be easier than just pulling it out. It was so weird.
Finally, we took the girls out of their seats and folded up the front bench. The guy still wanted to just convince his dog to get out, so we told him he needed to immediately climb in and grab the dog by it's collar and get it out of there. He finally got him out, but didn't even apologize and acted like we were over-reacting for even caring that a strange dog was stuck in our car and preventing us from leaving.
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