When I was in 4th grade, a friend of ours brought us back some fireworks from Tennessee. In the package were all these types that weren’t allowed in California and we took turns setting them off on our (very well-saturated) lawn. The first time we lit a firecracker, we forgot to make sure that the cats were in the house and my mom’s cantankerous crimson cat Bessie decided to play with the firecracker. We were trying to figure out how to get her out of the way before it exploded and thankfully, her little paw batted out the fuse completely so we didn’t end up with an exploded cat. From that point forward, we *ALWAYS* made sure to sequester the cats.