Jacob, my oldest, just turned 8. He is a firework of the brightest kind. The one that shoots off way higher and farther above the rest; shooting off into the most brilliant, brightest fire of light. He excels at everything he tries; effortlessly. He is a natural athlete; throwing a perfect spiral football; already understanding the fundamentals of baseball and soccer, his two favorite sports. He was only one out of two in his class to score perfect on every single spelling test of the year; and he has mad math skills; already outperforming me on the ability to perform these said math problems in his head.
Anna, is six. She is a firework of the loudest kind. Even when she's trying so hard to be quiet, she's loud. She is also a firework of beauty. The one that shoots off into many spectacular colors, or the one with a design inside. She's the kind whose sparks cascade down and rub off on everything else they touch; her smile and laugh contagious; making everyone flock to her like a magnet.
Camden, is five. He is the firework everyone "ooh's" and "aww's" over because of his deep dimples, and his deep blue eyes with the long eyelashes. He is the firework everyone remembers after the show is done; the one that makes a lasting memory; and the one that leaves a special sort of imprint on your heart.
Katelyn, is 15 months old. She is a sparkler; the one that is already giving us a run for our money; the one that if you hold onto too long, you will get burned. The sparkler that doesn't quit; one of beauty; one you just can't take your eyes off of even though you know you should because you'll be seeing stars even after the sparkler fades.
When you combine all of these fireworks together, there is sometimes an explosion of the loudest kind. The fireworks display that has gone bad; the kind that has you running for cover, protecting your head for fear of sparks catching you on fire.
And other times when you combine these fireworks, the display is perfectly in sync; every one igniting exactly how they should; at exactly the right time; and you are left with a sense of awe.
And now for this week's prompt: Prompt #7 Baby, You're a Firework
I like kitschy themes; what can I say? It's Fourth of July weekend in the US, so patriotism and fireworks are on the brain. Sorry for being painfully obvious. :) This week's prompt is all about fireworks. You can take that in a very literal direction, or you can include figurative "fireworks." Feel free to turn this prompt into fiction, non-fiction, or poetry, just be sure to include fireworks of some kind. Good luck!
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