We really do suck

I'm not really a "fireworks" guy, not that I don't enjoy watching things blow up, but living in the backyard of a large amusement park (on a complete side-note, if you aren't already familiar, King's Island is the very same park used in the infamous Brady Bunch episode -- the one where the kids have to run all over to get Mr. Brady his super cool architectural drawings of what looks like their house as a gas station? man, the area has changed a lot in 30 years -- but I digress), I've had my fair share of 10pm explosions. Besides, Sonya and I felt like crap. We prayed and prayed that it would rain, and it nearly did, but God doesn't love us enough because the onus (look it up, it's a word) of not going to the fireworks fell on us -- and miraculously the kids didn't. Instead, we saw Ratatouille (review to come) and got to bed early -- to toss and turn all night. So now I'm lying on the couch, the kids are with the grandparents (who thankfully are in town this week, just in time for Sonya and I get sick), with no more than 2 hours of sleep, a head full of snot, a throat tighter than ... well, tight ... and watching the "Dead Like Me" marathon on Sci-Fi channel.