Did She Faint?

Let’s talk about fireworks.   Last night.   Fourth of July.   My son was excited.   My daughter was sort of excited.    I’m not sure if she was fully sighted if the situation would be different because it’s getting hard to know how she would have reacted given the amount of time she’s been visually impaired.   But no matter now because he’s a he and she’s a she and they both have very different personalities.    She’s cautious and he’s crazy and there were plenty of fireworks my in-laws had purchases for last night to be lit up on the street to entertain both young and old alike.

We started the morning with those pop snap things in the sawdust that you throw on the ground that go bang.   My son loved them.  Apparently my daughter did too, even though she’s more sensitive to sound.   That’s where the similarities ended.

When it got dark we pulled out the sparklers.   There were short, medium and long—the long being the ones I got because I thought flame, sparks and fire further away from my daughter might be a good thing but no, she only wanted the short ones as the long ones scared her.   My son, you ask?   All good.   All exciting.   Most of this involved him running around yelling in the driveway.

Then my husband got the real fireworks out.  And real fireworks involve noise, specifically loud noise.   And that’s where my daughter drew the line.    She didn’t like it.   She couldn’t really see it, even though it was a brightness in the dark, although I did see her tracking the roman candles at one point.  

What my husband tried first were her headphones for her iPad.  That worked a bit, but she could still hear the noise so I got his noise cancelling headphones and stuck them on her, hoping it would make a difference.   Yeah, no go.   From the street, while my daughter was backed up against the front door my husband said in a normal voice, “this one says ‘loud and clear'”.   My daughter cried out, “I don’t want loud!”

When the bangs and whistles started to happen my daughter opened the door and fled inside.   My son, who at this point had gotten concerned about her came up to me and asked (when the lights and sounds were over), “did she faint?”

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Who’s In Charge Story:  I was working with my neighbor’s daughter today, teaching her how to make jewelry, showing her how to open jump rings, make wrapped loops, lending jewelry making pliers and helping her select supplies to take home with her.   My daughter wanted to be involved but she really couldn’t help so I told her it was a one-on-one type of thing.   So she said, “can I be in charge of the boys then?” referring to my son and his friend who were over.   I told her certainly, only I wasn’t sure if they’d listen.     Fifteen minutes later I came downstairs to find the boys watching something on television they shouldn’t have been watching and eating Pez candy for a snack (at dinner time).   When I asked my son what he was thinking he said, “but you said my sister was in charge and she said it was okay.”