Sunday morning was the St. Rocco and St. Anthony society’s big parade. By “big”, I clearly mean absurdly small. It’s just one hodge-podge band and a whole slew of Italian men wandering through the street on a Sunday morning. But, it’s still a parade.
Well, I told the kids they were going to see the parade and they were excited. They stood with Grandma because both my husband and I were in that little hodge-podge band. When we went by, they waved and smiled. (Well, except for Foodie. A marching band is like a herd of zebra to her. She has no idea where one person starts and the next ends so, she searches with her eyes for us but just can’t find us even when we are waving wildly while banging on a large drum. She’s a special girl.)
After the parade we went to collect the kids and asked them how they liked the parade.
“That was NOT a parade,” said Rain Man seriously. “There wasn’t any candy.”
And then he sulked off to the kitchen to beg for sweets.
I guess I forgot how children judge the quality of a parade by how much candy is thrown. The music was nice and they got to see a bunch of happy relatives, but it was NOT a good parade.
I think next year I will give one of their uncles a couple candy bars to launch at them. Then the parade will rank off the charts.