The Dormouse's big goal for this holiday was to see as many fireworks as possible, so we structured the weekend accordingly. For the 3rd of July, we decided to hang out at the National Harbor, where we ate insane amounts of guacamole (even had guacamole for desert!). I'm already planning the next time we can go because that guacamole was THAT GOOD and no matter how many times I try with my own metate, I cannot seem to reproduce it when I make it at home. So I have no choice but to believe that that's not a teaspoon of salt they sprinkle over the ingredients before they mix it up at your table, but rather a teaspoon of crack.

I tried my hardest to bury the longstanding hatchet between me and Gaylord hotels but I'm sorry to say, after walking through the door and glancing at the lines for the registration desk going out the door and around the sidewalk, these folks weren't successful in making me think any more highly of the corporation and I'm just glad I didn't follow that wild hair and book a room there. It was crowded, the party was badly managed from what I could tell (totally not sour grapes because I waited too long and couldn't get tickets) and I was just happy to be able to leave. We did see some cool sand castles though:


Some people ditched us for Cookie Monster and Elmo, so we decided to get away from the crowds and watched the 3rd of July fireworks from atop a parking garage, which, if you're five, is the perfect place to hang out after an afternoon where Dad let you eat way too much junk food and red fanta. (Now I totally get why my uncle could never look at an orange soda after that unfortunate car ride with me at seven years old when I was still in my "I get car sick" days.) Because there, you have the luxury of throwing up in the bushes and not on other people's shoes. Dear parking garage attendant who had to show up to work the morning of the 4th: we apologize for your unfortunate scheduling.


We flaked out for interesting 4th of July plans and went to a local park were we experienced the most traditional of ways to celebrate.

Baseball (And yes, I know this is basketball. This is the East. People don't get together to play baseball here.):


Hot dogs (or in this case, summer sausage):


Apple pie (at least, in sauce form):


And community drum circles (I'm sure there was a Chevorlet or two around but I didn't manage to get a photo of that.):


There were glow in the dark items:


Friends from school:


And one very patient brother:


As days go, this was better than most.