I have a lot of good 4th of July memories. One year, my dad and his friend almost set the house on fire when a rogue firework hit the table housing all the other fireworks. Terrifying, but also that was the first time I ever ate puppy chow and it was delicious. I just sat there and kept eating it all night, a win in my book.
Once we moved to Florida, we had a few years where we spent the holiday on the beach. My sister and I would build sand castles all day and then we would go back out to the beach once it got dark out. At that point I was old enough to hold a sparkler. I remember dancing around with my toes in the sand waving my sparkler around like a magic wand.
My sophomore year of college I spent the holiday with one of my best friends at his neighborhood barbecue. I ate a lot of mac & cheese and potato salad. Then we spent the night swinging from this big rope swing hanging from a tree. I just loved it.
And last year, Chris and I had one of our first 4th of July holidays on our own together. We attempted to go see the firework show on the Charles River. Once we arrived, we realized that we were incredibly unprepared. We didn’t bring water or snacks or bug spray or a blanket and the esplanade was jam packed with other humans. We ended up leaving 30 minutes later because we were thirsty. Then it started pouring down rain. We spent the night indoors watching Bad Boys II and occasionally peeking at the firework show from our back window.
This year, we had no idea how to spend the day. A Will Smith movie marathon perhaps?
Luckily, my friend invited us to the Red Sox game. Done and done! As far as I can tell, there is pretty much nothing more American than celebrating the 4th of July at a baseball game at Fenway. It was my first time and I loved it.
We honestly had the most amazing time at the game. Oh also, we visited the Park Street graveyard and said hello to Paul Revere and John Hancock. Perhaps this will be our new 4th of July tradition?