I made a conscious decision not to take my camera to National Night Out this year. It was, being August, hot as blue blazes and I just couldn’t bear the thought of carrying anything extra. I immediately regretted it. Thank goodness for Instagram!
I had a pang of nostalgia and regret as the firetruck pulled away from the party. This is the first year I haven’t gotten a photo of my sweet, sweaty children in the firetruck. Silly, no? Fletcher has a tendency these days to disappear into the crowd at these parties, running off with a gaggle of boys only to reappear when it is time to go home. But he told me this morning that he had a great time climbing on the truck even if I wasn’t there to witness it. There is always next year for more photos!