The only “blood” part was in our front yard

I was pretty excited about the eclipse tonight. Looked forward to sharing it with my family because the last one came in the middle of the night and I watched it alone, in the bed of the pickup, with a cup of coffee.

This time I wanted them to see how cool it is.

So when I hopped off the couch at 6:20 and ran out to the front yard, Sassy followed me. It was just starting. I sent her back in to fetch her father and brother.

We all stood by the street and watched the moon rising and simultaneously disappearing while cars drove by and the drivers looked at us weird. Neighbors came in and out of their homes. Still we stood there.

Things were moving very slooooooowly. Seriously, slowly.

The Bandit called his sister fat so I made him go sit with his father. Someone complained about getting a sticker in their foot.

The Moon was just about half way covered when Sassy wanted to know when the cool stuff was going to start. I sighed.

“What happens with an eclipse again?” she asked. I briefly explained the science. She got back on Facebook.

By this time, the Moon was more than half covered. A bit of red tinge was appearing around the left side.

My Honey played on his phone while sitting on the tailgate of the truck. In all fairness, this whole thing was moving really slowly.

Finally the moon cleared the trees and we all climbed up on the tailgate to watch.

The Bandit sat too close to Sassy so they fought about that. Loudly.

My Honey farted.

Then Sassy was breathing too close to The Bandit, so they fought about that. Loudly.

“You’re ruining the eclipse for me,” I told them. More than 3/4 of the moon was dark.

Sassy threw The Bandit’s shoes into the street. Guess what they did. Yep. Loudly.

My Honey mentioned that we needed a soundtrack for the event. “Some Credence Clearwater Revival,” he suggested. We sang as much as we could remember while he found it on the internet.

My children found that annoying. So they fought about it.

“Seriously, you’re ruining the eclipse for me,” I said again, but no one cared.

My Honey said that there was something he probably should tell us. “I’m going to become a werewolf after this.”

“Cool,” I noted, staring up at the sky. “I need a good excuse to call in for work tomorrow.”

I told him how the crazies out there were certain all of this was a harbinger of the apocalypse. Which, I might point out is also an excellent reason to call in sick for work.

We made it until the moon was completely covered. My children were unimpressed with the “blood” part of the eclipse. Then they fought about whether it was cool or not.

Next time I’m watching my amazing astronomical events by myself with a nice quiet cup of coffee.