Little women, big coats

Happy fourth of July. As a spoiled youngster I usually spent the summers in England taking classes on this or that. The program leaders would always beg the American students to please, for heavens sake, save off the annoying urge to light fireworks and holler like the drunken underage idiots we all could be. And each year, as my quiet, nerdy, never yet drunk self would climb into bed, I'd suddenly see the startling lights and hear the hollering and couldn't help but smile.