8 AM bottle rockets

It seems it is tradition for the Gnome household to shoot off bottle rockets in the early mornings through out the July 4th holiday season. People complain every year, like I did this morning, but it is their right to do it. Wars were fought so we could shoot off our boom booms when ever the hell we want to. When I think of my grand father in WW II or my dad in Vietnam I know that was in the corner of their mind, an unalienable truth that they were fighting for: the right to make loud noises early in the morning to show we love this country. I mistakenly thought that if I pointed out that each time one of those bottle rockets explodes over my house my month old son jumps and starts to cry that they would move to the back yard. I am never one to impede anyone's right to their early morning rituals, I was just wondering if we could move the festivities 40 feet away. Well I was lectured on rights and told that I should call the police if I didn't like it. It was actually just one of the Gnomes, Richard, that was angry with me for trying to stifle his boom boom joy. Chris the kid and Terry the one who did such a marvelous job mowing our lawn when the mower broke seemed to think moving to the back yard was not too much to ask. It seems they are all afraid of Richard though and so stood their ground, only Chris looking at me with an apologetic nod to Finn who was in my arms. I reached out a hand to Chris and gave him a slap-shake-lean gangsta shake and told him we were cool. I knew this was out of his hands and wanted to let him know I understood. As I walked back across the street he shot of his last two and told Richard he was done. Richard came out and shot of some more to prove his point but stopped after that and went in the house. I want to be mad at him but he is so obviously ravaged by alcoholism that it is hard. I told him he was a good man as I left, partly because I believed it and partly because I hoped it.