God bless the USA

I took one measly picture from the lake this weekend. Here it is.

I can't believe I didn't take a still shot of the patriotic Budweiser can Andrew wanted to buy. The boy loves his branding.

When we {finally} got home, Andrew mentioned we watch the fireworks show that appeared to be at the Baton Rouge lakes. We were tired; I'm scared of them; we went home instead.

An hour later, a store-bought pizza was heated and we were flipping the dials between LBP and NBC. The fireworks show via television is better for my nerves.

And the patriotism! The patriotism! I wasn't farmklempt; I was crying. Full on crying. We both agreed that while Beyonce's rendition of Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA" was good, it didn't beat the original.

Andrew and I sang along to the patriotic songs we knew and enjoyed the instrumental patriotic songs too. We both noticed how no one makes music like that anymore. I realized then, as we were sitting on our couch, eating a store-bought pizza, I am an old, old girl. Maybe it sounds better if we call me an old soul. How 'bout that?