Water bottle on the sand - Malibu Beach, California.
We took the kids to see fireworks at a nearby park. A nearby small park, much too small to accommodate the thousands of people who showed up. Hundreds, maybe thousands of us spilled out onto the surrounding streets. We sat on a curb and talked to the old ladies who asked to sit next to us about other people who were being rude and how the heat makes people pissy. The highlight of the show for me was the guy who walked down the street pulling behind him a very large, wooden cross that rested on his shoulder ala Jesus. On the top of the cross he had plopped a little American flag. I silently thanked him for taking the coming beating on behalf of all of us who agree with him.
During the show, my middle girl started hurting too much to continue to just stand, so we started walking back toward the car. We talked for a bit and I told her she didn't ruin anything for me, but I'm never sure she hears that.
Ex husband is here. I picked him up at the airport and informed him that he would have to buy minimal groceries while here and gas up my car. This news was not received well. I have to remind myself that however much I would wish to erase him from the narrative of my life, I am grateful for my children. I don't have or deserve the luxury of getting to smack him around or rip him a new asshole. I would really like to, though.
Icky Bunny is supposed to come home tomorrow! I'm glad. I miss him.
