I don't really know quite what it is about St. Patrick's Day parades but, even as a little girl, I recognized something strange about the whole event. I guess as I got older I started to understand that the strangeness factor is likely nothing more than just an incredible amount of inebriation. There's a good reason why you feel oddly violated when a drunk old man with ruddy skin tricks you into accepting a flower in exchange for a kiss. As a child it was all very innocent and, though I certainly remember not really thinking the deal was quid pro quo, as I got older I definitely recognized that something wasn't quite right. It was around that time that I started hiding from the marching crews and deciding that I could live without the flowers. In the interest of full disclosure, I recall a brief period of time in my teenage years and early twenties when I reveled in it all, easily sifting through the dirty old men to find cute Irish boys.
On Saturday afternoon I sucked up my fear of drunk Irishmen exchanging flowers for kisses and braved the St. Patrick's Day parade with the kids. The weather was perfect, the parade was only an hour late, and the men weren't THAT drunk.
James enjoyed his first bike ride and both kids were psyched to see Meenakshi and Uncle Richmond (who was in hiding the past few months finishing his dissertation).
We are still trying to regain our footing after losing an hour of precious sleep last night. The extra daylight is nice, but it is going to be a big adjustment. At 8:30 both kids were still wide awake. Tomorrow morning is going to be very interesting.
3 comments:
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Its an Irish Mardi Gras!!!Just a block Party with lots of liquor, Inever understood either one..lol.
James and I look like Muppet fugitives from Sesame Street.
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