December 6, 2008


I subjected my children to the most horrible form of torture known to man....

Sitting.... In one spot..... For an extended period of time.

Horror of Horrors!

There's a Christmas parade that happens every year in Old Town Manassas, and I (stupid person that I am) thought it would be FUN to GO.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Once the parade actually, like, STARTED, we were kinda okay. But having to get there early, find a parking spot, and then walk was not something that certain short people were fond of. And then there's that whole pesky issue of finding a place to sit. And since I'm not a "get up and get there three hours early" kinda parade fanatic, seating was limited. Which invariably means MORE WALKING. Which directly results in MORE WHINING.

Luckily, when I was in the process of unloading the double stroller from the back of my beast of a car, I noticed people with lawn chairs. Not that I had lawn chairs, but I did have 2 extra umbrella strollers that I threw in the cargo spot of my double because 2+2=4 which is exactly the number of bums I was charged with.

Anyhow, we eventually scored a good spot, in part because I saw it and hustled on over there and whipped out my other strollers before those handicapped people could get there. Muah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Legs win again! (Not really, but kinda... whatever.... Don't send me hate mail.)

Now, since I didn't have the foresight to park at the BEGINNING of the parade route, we had to WAIT and WAIT and WAIT. It was probably only like 30 minutes but 30 minutes is a long time to wait when you're small.

Then the parade finally gets to us and lo and behold, the families on either side of us whip out grocery bags to CATCH CANDY IN. Not that they had to catch anything. They sat in their fancy lawn chairs and extended the bag out ever so lazily and the candy thrower people came to THEM.

These were the SAME people that brought hot cocoa, and blankets and mittens and had managed to park their truck up in the lot behind us and just flipped the tailgate down. Pffht. Total overachievers.

And then there was us. The family from the desert. Who hasn't ever been to a parade in the *real cold. The family that thought that long pants, and long sleeved shirts, and coats would suffice. HA! That family was royally SCREWED.

We made it about halfway through the festivities before people started crying because their hands hurt.

Then we had to wait until the parade stopped marching long enough to run across the street, bulldoze over the people on the other side, and walk all the way back to the car.

Seriously good times.

{My Little Icicles}

How was your weekend?

*real cold = actual cold and not the pansy winters I used to think were cold but were really a sweltering 85 degrees Farenheit; think numbers more like "28" and "32"...