Way back when the kids were two - as in two kids, not three - and Richard was a little squirt, Paul and I put the two of them in the family van and headed out to the local fireworks. We went early so the kids could play at the park (as in, Rich would wear himself out so he'd sit still for the fireworks) and we could get good seats for the view
We tried to prepare him for what to expect, as this was his first fireworks. We talked about sitting still, about it being dark, about watching the bright lights in the sky. We overlooked one little detail: the noise. And this set started out with a few big booms.
Richard started screaming and insisting that we take him back to the van, so I did, leaving Steph with Paul. When there, he wanted to be in the front seat where he could still watch the fireworks. He also insisted on being buckled in, and as soon as he was, he was fine and enjoyed the rest of the show. Once calm, he was able to tell us that what he'd needed was, as we'd always called it, his "safety belt."