One of the parental killjoys that has stuck with me over the years has been my father’s aversion to sparklers. Liz, however, had a very different childhood experience, so fireworks are less of a novelty to her. Admittedly, I still giggle whenever I set off a bottle rocket. I guess the bar’s been set pretty low.
I will attempt to quote my father’s response to a childhood inquiry regarding purchasing sparklers: “Those things are made of magnesium, which burns at 3000 degrees centigrade! They use magnesium flares to weld underwater! No you can’t have one!”. That may not be a direct quote, but it includes all his points.
So when Liz picked some up for the kid, I thought about this past conversation. A quick Google search reveals that, depending on the composition, they burn upwards of 1600 degrees Celsius–not quite as hot as my father claimed, but I still wouldn’t want to touch the flame.
But, like getting salmonella from raw cookie dough, some experiences are worth the danger risk. Personally, I think it was just an excuse to avoid spending money on something superfluous–a reason that makes far more sense to me now as a father myself. I wonder what goofy thing I say that my own kid will remember forever.
Ah well. For now–fire!
–Simon