Instead of BORING you with more blah blah blahs about Hilton Head, South Carolina. I will regale you with the tales of my other summer exploit, The Fourth of July.
So here’s a piece of trivia for all of you Jen fans. I live in the town I grew up in. Yup. I left when I was 18, came back, left again, came back, moved to the Big City, then came back for good when my sister and I decided to buy a house together, because there’s no place like home. This is a pretty great town if you have to live in the suburbs of Chicago. It’s safe, quaint, and everything important is walking/biking distance. Not that I do either.
When my sister and I lived together we didn’t even lock our house. Given we had 2 big dogs. When we sold our house due to my impending marriage, we realized we didn’t even have a key! Luckily the new buyers were kind enough to not make us pay for new locks.
Believe it or not, one of the reasons we moved back to…thought I’d tell you didn’t ya! Not! I just told you my car was unlocked in the driveway! We moved back because we love the Fourth of July.
It’s during our Fourth of July celebration that our town really shows you what a small town is all about. We may be a suburb, scrunched up between all of the other suburbs in a run-on suburb configuration. But it still feels like a small-town. And since a real-life small-town does not come with a Whole Foods AND a TJ Maxx, we’ll stay here for a while.
However it does come with a real-life small-town celebration of The Birth of Our Nation. So this is what happens
after South Carolina this summer…
We have pony rides, carnival games, bouncy climbing walls. There’s crazy sisters, and family, cool husbands and crazy husbands. Firetrucks and Sesame Street. Marching bands and bagpipes, stilt-walkers and more marching bands. There’s hot neon clowns, cowboys, old-time firetrucks and awesome dancers.
It’s a two-day celebration, complete with pancake breakfast and a doggy parade. And awesome fireworks we can see, un-obstructed from my parents back deck. The firemen let the kids climb all over the firetrucks before they protect the crowd from a Firey Death by Misfire. It’s the kind of celebration that everyone Comes Home For. We see friends we haven’t seen in years, and tye-dye vendors we look forward to seeing every-year. We talk about leaving our home-town for a “real” small-town. But if we ever wind up somewhere else, we will always miss the Fourth of July.
And Whole Foods.
And because I can’t leave you without a song, here’s a gimme. If you need to own it, click here: My Hometown – Bruce Springsteen: Greatest Hits When your done might you clicky click click the banner below and send me into Top Mommydom?