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Well, this certainly isn’t a Fourth of July we’ll ever forget…
Once the chaos from Thatch and Jude’s fireworks show settled down, Georgia, Cassie, and I took the kids inside to get ready for bed while Wes and Kline grilled up some burgers to feed the men of the Greenwood Fire Department.
Surely, after the ridiculous situation that had brought them out here in the first place, providing a Fourth of July dinner was the least we could do.
My gorgeous daughter was freshly bathed and sitting on her bed in her favorite footie pajamas, and as I brushed her wet hair, an unexpected laugh hopped from my lungs.
“What’s so funny, Mommy?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.
“Your uncles Thatch and Jude.”
“Because of the fire they started?”
“Yes,” I answered through a snort.
“Fireworks are a known fire hazard.”
“That is a fact that was definitely proven tonight.” I nodded, set down the brush, and began separating her hair into sections so I could braid it.
“The flames from that canoe were high. I’d estimate they were at least ten feet tall before the explosion occurred.”
Beforethe explosion occurred. The reality that a damn explosion actually happened was a good argument to back up Georgia’s thoughts of the evening—Thatch and Jude shouldn’t be allowed to hang out together.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to them about fire safety.”
“You know what, Lex? I think that’s a really good plan,” I answered through a knowing smile. “Those two certainly need a little educating.”
“Do you think Aunt Cassie is really going to kill Uncle Thatch?”
“What?No.” A shocked laugh burst from my throat. “No, baby. That’s just something adults say sometimes when they’re mad.”
“That’s good because it’s illegal. She’d have to go to jail.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Murder comes with some jail time.”
“Statistically speaking, first-degree murder usually equates to a life sentence in prison. Unless it occurs in a state with the death penalty.”
Well, damn. Shit just got dark…
“Uh…Lex…” I furrowed my brow and paused my hands in her hair. “How do you know that?”
“Because of Jim Can’t Swim.”
“Huh? What does that mean?”
“Jim Can’t Swim,” she repeated. “Well, actually, he goes by JCS now.”
“Should I know what you’re talking about?”
“It’s a YouTube channel about criminal psychology,” she answered nonchalantly. “They show the interrogations of the criminals that occur during an investigation and bring up stimulating points about the way the human mind works.”
My eyes went wide.Oh, holy hell.
“Baby, I think that might be a little too heavy for someone your age to be watching.”
“Age is relative, Mommy,” she responded. “Even though I’m only seven years old, developmentally, my brain can handle more emotionally difficult information than the average child my age.”
“I get that, little lady.” I gently tugged on her hair. “But that doesn’t mean you should be watching stuff like that.”
