Marching

I didn't write about it at the time, but about 10 days ago or so, the kidlets and I took advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and decided to be spectators at the annual Christmas Parade.  It was a great night for the parade, and we got there early to grab perfect spots along the curb of the street downtown.   Although Ya Ya was not always thrilled at being there (she was scared of the flaming batons and terrified that one of us was going to get lost in the massive crowd of people) The Banana and Mr. SP had a delightful time.  The Banana enjoyed the dancers, the drill teams in front of the marching bands, and especially all of the princess waving princess waves from their fancy cars.  Mr. Sneaky Pants was disgusted that none of the princess had knights accompanying them and was downright mad that knights get a raw deal in parades.  He did like the appearance of Darth Vador and a couple of really neat floats; one involved a troll under a bridge.  

Since the parade there has been a lot of parade play here at home.  Last Wednesday The Banana insisted on wearing her leotard, tights and tutu outside to play in the late afternoon, and convinced me to take a walk with her down the sidewalk to the end of the street.  It was no ordinary walk, though.  I was instructed that I was the marching band, and I was told exactly how I was to be marching.  She was the dance team in front of the marching band.  Every two squares of sidewalk we had to stop so she could do her performance.  She frequently reminded me that she was wearing the most beautiful leotard of all.  When we stopped, however, I was NOT to stop marching.  Marching bands march in place.  Their feet never stop.  Every once in awhile I'd try to sneak a break in.  It didn't go over well.  

There were several performances along our route, and it took us about 20 minutes to travel 2 blocks to the end of the street and back.