She knew it was coming up, but it seemed to arrive so quickly. His birthday, the Third of July. Every year it came back around like clockwork, and every year she knew he wanted the same thing – a weekend full of backyard barbecues and outdoor bonfire-centric events. With a sigh, she headed into MallWart for a gross of Deet-filled bug spray and several cases of beer.
She figured fair was fair, so each of them got to plan the weekend’s events around their birthdays. In March she dragged his unhappy behind to plays, comedy shows and dinners out in the city, and in July he filled her dance card with smokey, hazy days and nights of ’skeeters, beer, bonfires and Foods You Can Grill Into Rock Hard Briquettes.
This year’s fabulous outdoorsy experiential was to include a day and evening further north at a friend’s house on 27 acres, for the purpose of male bonding over a truckload of fireworks acquired “direct from the source” via a friend in the explosives business; a small event at the local VFW called a “roll-off” in which cuts of raw meat would apparently be raffled off to take home and food would be served as well; a town wide bonfire and cookout; and the penultimate – hosting the Fourth at home. Which thought brought her back to earth. “Crap”, she thought. “The kitchen is empty, I’ll have to stock up for the party at our house, too.”
After an hour of slow torture she left MallWart over $100 lighter in the wallet and ten tons heavier in step from extended exposure to the discount MallWart vibe. She had to hurry – they would be late for the first event up north, and he was waiting for her to get back and unload the bags so he could load the firework extravaganza into her SUV.
The weekend furled out as she expected, with him having slightly more fun than she did (and fair enough – it was his birthday, after all). She would never understand the appeal of the backyard cookout, though the larger, townwide bonfire-style cookout was actually fun – plenty of people to keep you occupied and out of trouble. She preferred backpacking for two weeks in the wilderness or taking a weekend camping and hiking or rafting trip instead – to each their own,she supposed.
As she double checked the house one last time for cleanliness before making herself go to bed early for the cookout, she smiled to herself and thought “It’s all worth it. Even the ’skeeter swarms. Happy Birthday, honey. I love you.”
Now Listening: the hum of the A/C
