Monday, July 5, 2010

The 4th

America knows how to throw a birthday party...

The rain that we had been experiencing all week departed.

The clouds lifted. They took (most) of the humidity with them.

There was even a gentle breeze to cool our sun-drenched skin. Four hours of White Trash Pool-fun will leave its mark.

We went to my bro-in-law's place for some quality time.

He's a master with the grill.

Truly. He's genius.

The kids love to visit their aunt and uncle and cousins.

*They* have a swing-set.

And *they* have a cool house.

And *they* are always nice.

And *they* have lots of Barbies and tennis shoes with sparkles all over them and a pink bedroom.

You see, we are ogres that live in a cave, so it's a real treat to visit civilized folk.

I love to visit because all I have to do is sit while the bro-in-law casts his BBQ spell upon various meats.

*They* have patio furniture that's not made of vinyl and folds-up.

We ogres need to get some for the cave.

If you come-over, Conga Bird will even chat with you.

Ribs, chicken, and brisket.

The bro-in-law is a master, I tell ya.

He even makes his own BBQ sauce.

It will make your body tingle. In a good way.

We squeezed some vegetable matter in there so all bases were covered.

I proceeded to eat my weight in meat.

A strong BBQ buzz soon followed.

The only cure for a meat coma: A cold beer.

Check this out: The bro-in-law even cleans-up.

Shoos us from the kitchen, God love him.

The Offspring played outside...

...and inside...

...with toys that are "much more better" than the ones we have at home.

Or so I'm told.

We headed outside.


I love this picture.

We R Fireworks.


The Mr. is playing it so cool. "Oh yeah. Chicks dig me."

*So* rock-and-roll.

The perfect July 4th dessert.

The Boy is a watermelon fiend.

Watch your fingers when grabbing a piece.

As the sun set, it was time for pyrotechnics.

The Offspring have been so conditioned to never ever play with matches or fire that it took quite a bit of coaxing to get them to have a go.

The Girl decided that the Barbies inside were more to her liking and politely excused herself.

The Boy finally gave it a try, with encouragement from his favorite uncle.

Happy birthday, America!

I'm honored to be on your guest list.

When the sparks faded and the smoke had cleared the air, it was time to head home.

We rounded up The Offspring.

This was not an easy task.

Goodbyes were said, hugs given.

Extra thanks for a great celebration.

The Offspring concur.


Since I know he reads, I'll give an extra shout-out to my rad bro-in-law.

I'm so happy that your family is my family.

You guys always treat us right.

Peace out, brutha.