Night Owls IV.

I didn't expect there to be a fourth Night Owls installment. But there is. I made my poor, little, timid children go to a fireworks display - again. I learned my lesson, though... This time I didn't tell them there would be fireworks.
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Instead I told them we were going to a museum. (A slight misstep - the Royal Gunpowder Mills is not a museum, it's an "important heritage site". But damned if I was going to explain what an "important heritage site" is to my 3 and 4 year old while *also* trying to dodge the inevitable realization they'd be attending another fireworks display.) I told them the museum might have special things going on and, upon arrival, they were *very* pleased to see the mini festival complete with a circus-style trampoline, cotton candy, and a lucky dip [of crap toys]. They were even more pleased to eat a nutritiously ambiguous dinner of hamburger and chips from the carnival van. I let them enjoy this and kept stchum on the fireworks.
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Brazier for lighting sparklers

Actors depicting the Guy Fawkes story

Merry Go Round

Cotton candy

And then, well, because we were at the Gunpowder Mills, they started shooting guns. Really loud, olde-tyme guns which must've used all the gunpowder they'd saved up from the Crimean War surplus. And, well, that didn't go over well with my timid children. Their eyes widened, their hands flew to their ears and thus began the chant of "I wanna go home." [sigh]

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Sorry, boys. Have I mentioned I *love* fireworks...?
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