Letters You Wish You Could Send

Jeff and I, the kids, Jeff's dad, and another couple all went to Addison's Kaboom Town tonight. I really like the fact that it's always held on July 3rd, so we can still go and do something on the 4th without having to try to choose which fireworks celebration we like better. We sit close to the end of the runway at Addison Airport, just outside the fences, because there is a really cool airshow and we get to see all of the planes on the ground just 20 or 30 yards away as they're getting ready to take off.

I did take some pictures, but the camera is in the car and it's late, so I'll upload them tomorrow. In the meantime, I'd like to share with you two letters that I'll never get to send. I'm not normally this grumpy, but tonight I was! The online community of which I'm a part has an ongoing discussion that shares the title of tonight's post, and this was my contribution for the night.

Happy Fourth of July!

Letter #1
Dear woman who sat directly to the south of me at the huge-mongous fireworks show tonight,

I am happy that you found such a good vantage point. Yes, we really like the north end of the airport too, and it was such a good spot that you promptly called at least five of your best friends who all showed up with their several children. And yes, I fully agree that bug spray is important, since mosquitoes are omnipresent in a Texas summer.

But you know what? It was windy today. Quite a strong breeze, as a matter of fact. So while you were bug-spraying every adult and child in your party of 25 people, did you not happen to notice at all that the ten of us sitting directly next to you were choking and coughing? Were you completely oblivious to the fact that you brought more than one of us to tears because our eyes were burning? When you use an aerosol SPRAY, that overspray has to go somewhere. My eyes and lungs, along with the eyes and lungs of my children, are--listen carefully here--not the appropriate place for the residue of your zealous bug prevention.

I swear, ten percent of the can landed on the intended targets, while we inhaled the other ninety percent. The next time you go outside, lady, do us both a favor and spray at home or not at all! You'll save your insect repellent, and I'll save my eyes. Thanks for nothing.

Love,
The family sitting downwind

Letter #2
Dear idiots sitting behind us,

Fireworks are illegal in Dallas County. Yes, dim bulb, that includes sparklers. I enjoyed them as much as the next kid twenty years ago, but they were legal where I lived and we didn't light them in a parking lot full of other people and small children! I'm SO glad you were busy drinking beerpaying such close attention to the ten kids in your group who were waving them around, so you could warn the little girl in blue not to wave it six inches from my stroller. Oh wait, that was me. And how thoughtful of you to stand there like an idiotrealize that one little boy dropped his onto the very dry grass just twelve inches behind us, which immediately caught fire. Oh wait, that was my friend, who grabbed the sparkler, dropped it onto the cement, and stomped out the fire.

I hope you burn your hands on the next box, since I saw the package of 150 that you still hadn't lit. And yes, it WAS me who called the police to let them know that someone was using illegal fireworks. You want to light sparklers? Do it in your own driveway, where you're putting your family at risk and not mine. If that makes me the grumpy mean old lady who ruins other people's fun, so be it.

So there.

Sincerely,
Me. The grumpy, mean old lady sitting in front of you.