In the UK, November 5th is bonfire night/firework night/Guy Fawkes night. It commemorates the arrest of Guy Fawkes in 1605 in the bowels of the House of Lords while he was guarding a pile of explosives placed there by members of the Gun Powder Plot. Wikipedia has a full article on it here, but sufficed to say on bonfire night, its become tradition to set off a load of fireworks. For those readers in the US, it’s a lot like July 4th.

Anyway, last night we took Little M to a local firework display. We got her dressed in her pyjamas,

then into a snow suit, and finally a hat and gloves. Almost ready for the next Ice Age. We drove down to the local park, met up with my sister, brother-in-law and his sister and waited for the light show to begin! As you would expect at an event like this, it was very busy, so we made the usual arrangements for meeting points in case we got separated. However, we didn’t need to do this because we got an excellent spot where we could see everything, and there was hardly anyone around! Bonus!

The 25-minute display ended in a flourish of fireworks all exploding overhead and we headed home – to a surprise for Little M. My brother-in-law and I had bought our own fireworks and started our own display. Roman Candles, Catherine Wheels, rockets, sparklers, the lot. By the time we got finished, it was 9.30 and we were all freezing, but Little M had a great time. She’s still talking about it today!

Apparently, Daddies do better fireworks.