In an effort to pretend to be Irish for a day, I convinced my husband that it would be a great idea to take our kids to the local St. Patrick’s Day parade. I went last year with a friend of mine on a cold, slightly rainy day and we had a lot of fun. The parade was filled with silly floats, people were throwing beads and candy. The crowds were manageable. Both my friend and I thought it would be great for kids.
A few things were different this year. The day was gorgeous! No rain or cold temperatures. The main highway to this parade is closed and under construction leaving one road to handle all the cars. The parade officials lifted the ban on coolers.
I should have seen where this was leading. Hours spent locked in traffic. Parking miles away from the parade route and dragging kids along. Wading through a sea of people — people sloshing beer on my kids and narrowly missing being burned by their cigarettes and cigars. My kids were elbowed, trampled and even nipped by a dog. They were not happy. John was not happy. I was not happy.
We gave up after a few blocks and trekked back to the car to sit in traffic for another hour.
Though my kids missed half a day of education for this event, we all learned something today. We learned that we’re not Irish enough to care to do this again next year. This photo basically sums up our excursion.
You can call it “the luck of the NOT-Irish.”