Fourth of July is next week and our hands are busy at our house. We decided to join our neighborhood parade three years ago. Along with some friends we hastily threw together a decorated cart the day before the parade started.
We had a blast so last year we took a little more time. We turned two carpet tubes into red white and blue palm trees and sunk them each into a bucket of concrete. We strung a badminton net between the trees. The kids clad in their patriotic beach wear hit candy out to the crowd (okay a few spectators) with the badminton raquets. We were thrilled when we took first prize.
What it takes these days for us to participate in the parade,now with a title to uphold.
- One slightly scary ride home with more than 20 carpet tubes hanging (no I really mean hanging—-like so far out that we were in serious jeopardy of hitting on coming cars) out from the back of our truck.
- One hot Saturday, cutting and securing carpet tubes. I mean to tell you these things are the greatest!
- A PAINFULLY long trip to Lowe’s AND Home Depot to purchase and insane amount of PVC pipe, valves and levers.
- A late evening gluing PVC after the tiring trip to the store because no boy in my house could contain the excitement of what was to come. There is a new book out called Dangerous things for boys ———-we could have written it!
- Constant chatter about how this will all work.
- Lots of friends to help with the planning, building, painting, making and perfecting the float.
I figure we still have a day worth of painting and then we will be ready. There is another family (our main competition) that gets into this and has as much fun as we do. Mary, the other mom, has asked what we were doing but I tried to be very vague as I have been here incase she might hear about our plans. There are very few things I am competitive about. One of my kids loves sports and I leave it at that——-if we win great if we lose great. It really doesn’t matter. I am not a “soccer mom” but maybe a little bit (okay alot) “parade mom.” The parade, it matters and Mary she is going down!!
So as I hear giggles from the basement, the air compressor cycling on and off, blasts of air and hysterical laughter I pray that when my kids are old they will forget that they always had to hunt for clean socks and they will instead remember the parade.