… that we went somewhere.

Last night Husband and I watched fireworks together for the first time ever. We started up our “thing” exactly seven years ago, and since then THIRTEEN different holidays involving fireworks have passed us by. Why?? I don’t know. I think we’re lazy when it comes to following normal traditions.

Not this year, by gum. Now we have the Toddler and it’s imperative that we start traditions. We want him to experience the world beyond daycare and our living room.

I insisted that we take a few pictures to prove that we got out of the house after 7:00 p.m. Sadly, it’s a rare occasion.

Toddler was up WAY past his bedtime but there were no tantrums. He stared at the fireworks in (calm) awe. I, on the other hand, was tickled beyond belief to be in downtown Homewood at night. That hasn’t happened in years.

When I see that in writing it’s really quite embarrassing.

For the past year or two we have relegated ourselves to a happy life of Netflix and frozen pizzas, but I think we’re ready to come out of our domestic cave.