Another week, another reason to celebrate.
This time of year is manic, there’s barely time to recover from Halloween when bonfire night arrives and then, after that, the shops start with their Christmas decorations and music, and the official countdown to Yuletide begins.
To mark Guy Fawkes night, I took my little Jack to see the fireworks at Callendar Park along with a friend and her grandson.
After last year’s exploits at the event – Jack was terrified of the loud noises and we had to leave at the start of the show – I was apprehensive about taking him again, but he was a star. In the past 12 months he has gone from a timid toddler to a curious wee boy and this November 5 was in awe at the colours and bangs in the sky.
So much so in fact that he didn’t want it to end and kept shouting for more all the way back to the car!
The weather, although very cold, was perfect for fireworks with a clear sky and not even a spit of rain.
However, the decent weather brought out a lot of idiots.
Callendar Park was filled with families enjoying the free event hosted by Falkirk Community Trust but there are always a few who spoilt it for the rest of us.
We had located a prime viewing spot in the park, with enough space for the kids – and their grannies – but still close enough to the action and live music on offer.
But, halfway through the entertainment, a group of youngsters set up camp beside us.
The teenagers had clearly been drinking alcohol and were well under the influence by the time they got to the park.
Despite being so close to wee ones, they were swearing very loudly and smoking cigarettes while sneaking sips of their moonshine.
My angry glares at them turned into loud tuts before I eventually had to say something. I tapped the ringleader on the shoulder and asked him what he thought he was doing acting in that way at a family event with young children so close by. But, instead of an apology, all I got in response was a mouthful of abuse.
They had just as much right to be there as we did, so he told me, before he made a rude sign and then stomped off with his gang of followers.
At least they left us to enjoy the rest of the show but it put a damper on the night.
In my day, I would never have spoken to my elders in that manner, nor would I have been allowed to go out, on a school night, to drink alcohol.
I’m not trying to say that, as a teen, I never had a fly drink of my mum’s brandy stash but I would never have got in such a state – the fear of what my dad would have done was enough to keep me in line.
Clearly the thought of a slipper across the backside just isn’t a big enough deterrent today.
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