Summers at the Lake

Today is the fourth of July, a day to celebrate American Independence, grill out, laugh with friends, and watch explosives in the sky. This is my favorite holiday because it always brings back such great memories from when I was a kid.
Our family spent every fourth of July at our cabin in Clear Lake. All of the kids (the Stephens, the Knapps and occasionally the Bauers) would swim until our muscles ached. We would walk up the hill from the lake to the cabin, barely making it to the top. By the time the sun went down, at about 8:30 pm we were absolutely exhausted. The sun had sucked all of our energy dry and all we wanted to do was eat whatever it was my dad was cooking on the grill. After devouring our dinners we peeled off our swimsuits, which during the summers pretty much felt like an extension of our bodies, and changed into our sweatshirts and jeans for the fireworks.
Every year before we piled onto the boat for the fireworks we sat quietly and acted like we were paying attention while my dad gave us his safety speech, "You will not stand, scream, jump, or yell in the boat when we are out on the lake. There are going to be hundreds of boats out there and most of those people will probably be drunk. Keeping this in mind, you will listen to my voice and do as I say so that we can make it back to our dock safely at the end of the night. Got it?" We always nodded, trying to contain our excitement but knowing that there was no possible way we could sit still the way he asked us to.
I remember one year we were driving back to our dock from the middle of the lake, surrounded by boats on every side. A speedboat driven by college coeds zipped right in front of us and my dad yelled, "Are you drunk or just stupid! I've got kids on board!" I was always so embarrassed when he did things like that. I would bury my head in the boat's vinyl seat, but deep down I was proud. I loved that my dad stood up for us and that he wasn't afraid of anyone. I always thought (and still do) that he was the strongest man in the world.
After escaping death and making it back to our cabin my dad would always pull out his illegal stash of fireworks for our personal show. He has a terrible habit of driving across the Missouri border and purchasing an obscene amount of fireworks, which are illegal in the state of Iowa.
Once again, I would feel so embarrassed that he was calling attention to our cabin by shooting fireworks that were big enough for the entire town to see, but I also thought he was pretty cool, a fearless rebel.
We would fall asleep at night to the sound of fireworks shooting off all over the lake. The blasts would shake our cabin and we would all try to comfort our poor dog as she shook in fear. We would open the windows to our bunk room and listen as the neighbors partied late into the night. Some of the best nights I have ever slept were at that cabin. The cool summer breeze filled our room as we finally surrendered to our exhaustion and fell asleep. Then we would wake up in the morning, strip off our pj's and jump immediately into our swimsuits, forgoing all regular clothing choices and do it all over again....
That is why I love this day. And that is why I love summer.