We set up shop in the shade near a storefront with zebras on the windows. The little girls examined the windows briefly, but there were better things to do. Shar quickly procured a miniature American flag to wave. Clara tried to sit in other people's chairs.
When the parade began, we moved forward to sit on the curb next to a slew of eight-year-old girls in ponytails with patriotic hair-ties. They were sitting on a blue gingham comforter. Owing to his suspected vampiric origins (the kind, reticent vampires that drink deer blood), Simon hung back in the shade.
The first part of the parade was not very interesting. It was mostly old cars and citizens' groups. There were some seniors in a retirement-center van. The Tea Party "float" was a trailer with people dressed in colonial garb, including one very elderly man in breeches who looked as though he had been around for the actual Boston tea party. There was a citizens for peace group who, in a stunning display of ingenuity, simply walked down the street flashing the peace sign.
Then came the family on unicycles, the car stuffed with plush animals ( the Humane Society or something like it, I think), and the BAGPIPERS. There were about twenty-five bagpipers and some drummers, and they were all dressed to the nines in kilts and other regalia. They marched with precision and played patriotic songs. Their sound was huge. They were so cool. Clara, who had been running up and down the sidewalk, petting dogs and trying to steal other people's snacks, was suddenly riveted.
The only thing that could come close was the candy. Nearly every group after the bagpipers were throwing candy. I morphed into a rabid sidelines-mom, trying to get Clara to go after the candy. It wasn't that she wasn't interested. It was just that her reaction times were naturally a good two to three times slower than the little-girl vultures sitting next to us.
One of the little girls, a scavenger with a brown ponytail, looked to have recently lost her front teeth, but that didn't stop her from diving for salt water taffy and jawbreakers like a pro volleyball player.
Once, a whole handful of Smarties and tootsie rolls landed right in front of Clara.
"Clara!" I shrieked, my finger quivering just inches from the loot at her feet. "Look! Look at all this candy!" She looked down at it intently. Maybe she was absorbing the beauty of the patriotic-candy wrapping against the melting black asphalt of the street. Finally she reached for a piece.
After a few tootsie rolls, she started running after the floats, yelling "Tan-eee! Tan-eee!"
"That's the spirit!" I thought.
Simon was coaxed from the shade to sit with us on the curb. Regrettably, not long after he sat down, someone winged a butterscotch melt-away at his head.
No comments:
Post a Comment