My Brother, David (Emily and Reece's Dad is what I call him) wrote a little ditty about last night's Christmas Parade. He made the mistake of sending it to me, Sister Who Deems Nothing Sacred Anymore, so I am posting it on this here blog! David, I love you and hope you continue to forget that I will tell anything you do that is funny.
Review of the Jonesboro Christmas Parade
The annual Christmas parade held in downtown Jonesboro was chocked full of floats and civic groups. But enough about that.
The highlight of the parade, at least for Reece and me, was waiting for someone to step in the pile of dog doo a Humane Society canine left behind on the street in front of us. We were enjoying the drama and anticipation as several members of the Sons of the American Revolution came tantalizingly close to the large steaming mound but somehow escaped danger by a fraction of an inch.
Next, the Jonesboro High School Marching Band was a sure bet to make everyone involved in the Poop Shoe Game a winner. Scores of people, young and old alike, knew that the odds were in our favor to have a freshly-shined black marching boot plunge into the unsightly pile sitting near the yellow stripe on Main Street. We might even be so fortunate as to witness the true "coupe de gras" of dookie incidents. I'm talking about the slip and fall of course. Well, the gods of the brass and wind sections were looking out for the pimply-faced teenagers this cold December night, as not a single member of this award winning marching band hit pay dirt. The crowd groaned with frustration as the sounds of Jingle Bells coming from the instruments faded north down the street. Clean boots were in abundance at the 57th annual Jaycees' Christmas Parade.
Our hopes and dreams were terminally squashed, literally, as the Mix 106 radio van made a right turn onto Main Street to join in this festive celebration of the most wonderful time of the year and converted the center of this night's attention into nothing more than a brown pancake. One could hear the sighs of disappointment from the bundled up gathering. Thanks a lot Trey S--- (owner of said radio station.)
All hope was now lost and I began to notice the numbness in my toes and face again. Reece immediately began to ask for cotton candy every 45 seconds. I realized at that moment that a single, disgusting, yet natural function from a mixed breed dog living in a shelter on the outskirts of town made me forget about my problems, if only for a little while. It even diverted a 7-year-old boy's attention away from a glorious mound of sticky, spun sugar for a few minutes. As we made our way to the car under a canopy of stars on this frigid evening, my son and I had a little extra spring in our step, knowing we are now officially in the Christmas spirit.
This was the best parade ever!