I’m not much a fan of parades. I don’t get too excited about standing in lines and waving at cowboys, motorcycle tricksters, or cheerleaders, but I do go to a lot of parades in my city because of my mom. My mom is a parade-a-holic.
When any major, national parade is headed to our town, she gets into, what I call, mom-parade mode. In this mode, she gets the grocery store in preparation for the parade and buys snacks, sunscreen, paper fans, and anything else she thinks we’ll need to be comfortable in our front row seats.
My mom loves parades. No, that’s an understatement. My mom is obssessed with parades. Given this, when going to parades, I’ve learned to let her lead. I’ve learned not to get in the way of her parade-zone. She walks at a fast pace, often with bags and chairs on her arms and her gaze very focused on the target, or the best seats possible. She walks through crowds and turns back, only on occasion, to make sure I’m still tagging along.”Yeah, mom. I’m still here…barely,” I’ll say.
Today we attended DC’s Cherry Blossom parade. It was…fun. Kind of. The weather was beautiful and the parade had lots of fun floats and other expected things like the cowboys, the bands, the horses, the horse poop, and all that. But, as is the case with most parades here in DC, it was crowded. So, having to brave crowds with a double stroller was not that fun.
But. We did it. We lived to tell about it. It wasn’t a great parade, but it was a great day. And, I guess that’s all that matters, right?
Are you a fan of parades?