Tuesday, July 12, 2005

More Mouths of Babes-isms

Back on Memorial Day, we decided to do the small-town (well, 60,000) thing and go to the West Hartford Centre for the parade. Last year we didn't go and I got lambasted for it. And it sounded fun this time. It goes about 2 or 3 miles, then ends up in front of the town hall, where there was to be a Memorial Day Memorial Memorial.

We could easily have walked; that's the original trouble. Even though it was quite a warm day. Honestly, we are no more than one mile (measured by car dash meter, natch!) from the town center. And we could have saved, oh, 30 cents by not parking. Lazy butt family. That's also why we are gradually (except for swim champ tyke) becoming the Big Butt family.

As I was revving up the family to GET GOING, because if we didn't GET GOING, the five-minute parade would BE OVER, sudden panic erupted from tyke. He did not want to park and walk. It would be nice, it seems, if he could somehow have been gently airlifted to a webbed-summer-folding chair in front of his favorite shops on Farmington Avenue. But I explained that this was not to be.

He had a fit and yelled. "Mom, I promise you . . . this time we are not parking close to the car. Because I just can't stand to walk that far."


Big brother just cracked up. "Heaven knows we're not going to park close to the car! You gag me, you dum$#%^!"

We got there without unpleasant consequence, and enjoyed the parade immensely because one of the things you get in a fairly small town is lots of crossing paths with people you know from everywhere. This was painful for Big Brother, who had the thirteen-year-old mortifying embarrassment of being seen IN PUBLIC with his DORKY PARENTS and retarded LITTLE brother. Neighbor kids were marching: girl next-door's flaming red hair showed up in her Girl Scout troop, Big Brother's two best friends played trumpet in the middle-school band and I wasn't allowed to cheer for them, and every time Honey and I tried to move or wave at someone or acknowledge someone's presence on the street or in the crowd, Big Brother's toes curled up and he winced and groaned like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz.

There's a certain evil pleasure to be gained from such teenager-humiliating moments; I'd be lying if I didn't say I relish it fully.

Later that night, after the parking-too-close-to-the-car comment had been nearly forgotten, tyke struck with another one.

"Oh. Looks like we're having a rain. But it's a DRY rain."


At 7/13/2005 10:40 AM, Blogger Tuesday said...

Well? What's sooo funny, ya'll? There's nothing good about parking too close to the car. Or about dry rain for that matter. It spoils alot of days around here.

Sounds like a lovely day actually and 13 now!!!! That happened way too fast.


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