For years, we have a Family tradition of attending the Chuy’s Children Giving to Children holiday parade when we are in town. We wake up early and everything. Not something we like to make a habit out of, but find it in our hearts for this day. Couple cups of coffee and a little bit of holiday ass grabbing, we eventually make our way into the city for the festivities. Parking at the local Hooter’s (which happens to be a popular bnf hangout, what?!? I go for the buffalo wings, honest), we park and walk, finding an opening in the already gathered crowds of thousands that line the street. Making our way to the front, we settle in while the kids cruise the street waiting for the parade to begin. But after the recent Dateline special, they’ll never do that again. Sorry kids.
Greg offers to buy me the hot dog I was really craving at 10:30 am as I hold down our spots for all of us. Till this lady with a giant stroller and two kids pushes her way in, without even asking, between me and the neighbor I shared this valuable real estate with. She says she needs to get her little boy in the sun as it’s a little chilly outside. Being literally pushed over, she parks right in front of our spots, I try to be calm as I watch her two kids take a seat on the pavement. At first, I think ‘well the kids are little and are seated and not in our way, so that’s cool.’ Then she continues to suffocate the rest of us with herself as well. But wait, her friend comes in and joins in, almost like she was waiting in the wings for the eagle to land. You know the kind of parade crasher I’m talking about, the kind with the hideous red Christmas sweatshirt, mom jeans, big purse, baby voice talking, it’s all for the kids type. She joins in acting like she’s trying to be careful to not be in the way, but is a fucking total solar eclipse of everything. We have officially been shoved back by the local Mary Kay lady and her accomplice. I’m looking around for the kids and Greg as I’m holding the two dogs, trying to find the words to say something civil knowing that’s not going to happen. I failed. I was overcome with that shame that I know is gonna follow me around for being a tad too nice.
The rest of our Family comes together as the parade begins and we are in awe of the lack of control these people have. They buy all the parade shit that makes its way down the line, they talk loudly about the parade floats passing by, and take a thousand pictures they’ll never look at again. They cheer for the military, they applaud the cheerleaders, and when the giant blow up characters come by they suddenly burst out in this high pitched baby voice eagerly trying to convince their kids that Shrek is really here, he’s really here! Guess what ladies, Shrek thinks you’re ugly. The kids are buying it up yelling in excitement and making me think we should forget about the war in Iraq, these ladies are raising killing machines right here on our turf. The teenage punk rises up in me making me want to reach down and whisper to the kids how Shrek plans on beating the crap out of them in the alley after the parade and turning their moms into drug addicts. There I said it. I know it’s not the kids fault, so save your cheesy family first comments because I don’t care. Oops, I did it again…
The parade ends and after an hour and a half with these ladies it really made me realize that it’s good to be nice, but not to a fault. I understand that now and am feeling a little less ridiculous about it now. Especially since I left a little something in the bottom of their stroller…something really gross…Happy Holidays!