Growing up in Georgia, when July 4th rolled around, we kids knew there was one fight we would never win.
We were free to bicker over the best place to watch the fireworks. Same for barbeque chicken versus burgers on the grill. Strawberry versus vanilla in the hand-cranked ice cream churn, dusted off every year on this day and this day only? Have at it. May the best man win.
But as to how we would spend the morning? Not negotiable.