it America's birthday, it was Grandma's birthday. We always went and
celebrated with meatballs, pasta, mashed potatoes, and goumpki. After
that, it was cake time, always decorated with red, white and blue
icing, little American flags, and matching candles. Grandma was in her
seventies, but we just put as many candles as the second digit of her
age. When she turned seventy five, we had five candles. Seventy eight,
eight candles. When she turned eighty though, we put eight...
Some Fourth of Julys, when the day fell on a weekend, I slept over and
we all watched fireworks on TV, fireworks from Tokyo and Dubai, to
France and Disney World. Grandma liked watching the fireworks. Whether
I was at my house or Grandma's, the night of the Fourth was
eventful--outside. Bursts, explosions, and low, rumbled bangs echoed
throughout the late evenings. At Grandma's house it got loud. The
small amusement park further down the Mouton, Lake Compounce, cast
their expensive, chest rattling displays high into the air, echoing
off the mountainside.
"I think I hear the grand finale!" I'd say, my ear tight against the
picture window glass. Soon after the thunder went quiet.
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