On Saturday night, we went to see a fireworks display at a nearby town. It was a perfect night to be outside, with clear skies and a warm breeze to keep the bugs (mostly) at bay. Kids were running around having fun playing with various light toys, and I had fun playing with slow shutter speeds.
Phoebe was very excited to be out past her bedtime. She ran around and danced to the music coming from the big tent set up for the occasion. She loved the fireworks.
Theo was much more mellow, and slightly intimidated by the scene, happy to sit on the sleeping bag we’d spread out and eat snacks. About an hour after we’d settled into our spot on the field, he was ready to go home. But then the fireworks started, and he went from bored and mildly intimidated to downright frightened. He clung to me, shaking.
I confess that, while I felt bad that he was scared, I enjoyed getting the snuggling time with him. He’s at a stage (please let it be a stage!) where he won’t necessarily give me a hug, even once a day. Part way through the fireworks show (which wasn’t terribly long, it being a fairly small town), John and I traded off so that he snuggled and comforted Theo while I took a few more pictures. By the end of the show, Theo had calmed down quite a bit, and was cheerful again. He even agreed that we’d had fun.