The Firecracker Clock

A small ceramic alarm clock shaped like a smiley football kid in a helmet, tucking the ball next to a standard analog clock face.

JC got a little decorative alarm clock for his birthday. A smiley cherub-face kid in a football helmet, tucking the ball, one foot on the goal line, next to a standard analog clock. It was innocent. It was precious. It had no idea what was coming.

Two kids inspecting a small stash of unwrapped firecrackers, eyes wide.

Someone's cousin had a stash of fireworks. Shady ones. We grabbed some firecrackers. The kind of decision that makes perfect sense when you're a kid and zero sense at any other time in your life.

A bedroom mattress dragged off the bed and propped against the floor as a bunker, the football clock placed on the windowsill.

We set the clock on JC's bedroom windowsill. Dragged the mattress off the bed and built a bunker. Then we shoved a bunch of firecrackers into the ceramic hollow behind the football kid. This was a military operation.

The clock detonating in a burst of ceramic fragments and smoke at the windowsill.

Light the fuse. Dive behind the mattress. Shattered baller everywhere.

The two kids hiding behind the upturned mattress, doubled over laughing.

We could not stop laughing.