We spent the Fourth of July with friends. At sunset a poolside BBQ gave way to fireworks – roman candles, bottle rockets, screamers and the like.
Someone commented that I looked nervous. Couldn’t argue with that. While I grew up with my share of black cats and bottle rockets, I was a little on edge given my line of work. Most of my encounters with children and fireworks involve some type of burn or dismemberment. And watching my nine-year-old ignite the fuse of a roman candle could only give me pause. But upon becoming a father, I swore not to let my biased experiences as a pediatrician influence the normal experiences of my children. This has been a challenge at times.
Could my son have lived without the experience? No doubt. Did he have a ball? Absolutely. The best part: shouting “fire in the hole” while running from the sparkling fuse.
Maybe some memories of tweenhood shouldn’t be denied.