Tuesday or Saturday?

Funny, it seems like yesterday was just a brief interruption of a long weekend. It's strange to sleep in, only to wake up and realize it's not Saturday, it's Tuesday. When the strangeness wears away, you are grateful for the nice interruption of the work week.
It's Pioneer Day and, here in Utah, it is a state holiday. We spend the day in remembrance of our Pioneer heritage and try to remember that, if not for them, we might not be living here. One of the traditions is camping out in the ghetto for first glimpses of the early morning runners with a parade to follow. Last night, we went to our family camp space (no we did not camp) to spend some time with them. Normally, we find a nice quiet spot where we can play Catchphra$e and eat junk food. This year, however, we managed to find two groups of the most inconsiderate people imaginable to flank both sides.
The evening began quite peacefully with kids running around us playing, good conversation and laughter, and some games. As the night progressed, the spot next to us was suddenly enveloped in bug spray. Enough that we were left coughing and, most certainly, protected against any pest that came our way. Soon after, we were confronted with another foul odor. Yes, people were cooking. AT. MIDNIGHT. Some infernal rodent that filled our nostrils and sickened our stomachs. Trying not to let the smoke and the smell bother us, we looked to our other side where a startlingly large group of drunken youngsters were pumping their music and carrying on. Many of them parading back and forth along our strip of sidewalk cussing and yelling IN. FRONT. OF. OUR. YOUNG. CHILDREN. When one of them had the gall to tell my niece she should be asleep (she was having a little trouble, you know, with all the yelling) we about lost it.
At 12:30, we noticed sparks flying. The rodent chefs were doing FIREWORKS. At first it wasn't bad, they were quiet ones and the sparks didn't travel far. Not long after, though, the sparks were traveling farther and LANDING ON OUR SLEEPING KIDS! Three angry moms went searching for the cops. Two angry dads confronted the rodent chefs about the sparks. Their reply was, "Oh, we didn't notice." Oh, so you're blind? How convenient. Then came the oh-so-familiar screaming and popping noises. Frustration rising, we hoped that three angry moms would come back soon with found cops. Three angry moms came back, no cops. Apparently cops' response was, "Happy Holidays." RIGHT. Ok, so what about the fact that they are setting them off in the turning lane? S.W.A.T. mob rode up on bicycles and asked the rodent chefs to keep the fireworks out of the lane. Apparently, the rodent chefs are deaf too because they did their finale further into the turning lane as we were spitting smoke.
Finally, the show was over and rodent chefs turned peaceful. But, of course, drunken youngsters need music. One of them stumbled over to their car and started blasting their music and dancing not ten feet away. Apparently, drunken teenagers had mom's present who yelled at them to turn it off. By this time, Love had enough and we had to leave. (He sometimes has to remove himself from a situation to control his temper.) As we drove away, drunken teenagers had their music on again. We wished our family luck, went home, and crawled into bed. What a night.
Anyway, I hope everyone has a great Pioneer Day!