Monday, July 5, 2010
Come on Parade, Pass Me By
It was hot at the parade yesterday. Although I'd found a shady spot, by the time the parade had gone on for two excruciatingly long hours and Daughter had still not gone by with her dance studio, we were encroaching mightily upon the people to our left. Their shade hadn't deserted them like ours had. Thankfully, they were quite good natured about it and didn't shoot us one dirty look.
[Their reaction was in sharp contrast to mine at the start of the parade, when latecomers were trying to take over the spot I'd secured. Assholes. How un-American of them, taking other people's land? Oh.]
We watched 92 -- 92!! -- entries walk or scooter or stroller or drive past before the girl came up. Talk about being hot. Can you imagine standing around in the sun and then dancing your way down the main street for 20 blocks over the course of two hours? Nor can I, my friend, nor can I.
Our wait was rewarded, however, when Daughter blew us a kiss as she passed us by. Now that's what I call a parade.
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