Our kiddos celebrated their Irish heritage with two parades this year. The first was on St. Patrick's Day in a friend's hometown. Several of Buby's classmates watched together as musicians, dancers and decked-out floats marched down Main St. Afterwards we all descended on our buddy Jonas' house for a vegetarian shepherd's pie feast.
While all the second-grade boys played tag and magic shows and treasure hunts, Bleu had the grand honor of placing flags in kiwi and setting a dinner table for 13. (My sweet friend Ann always finds ways to make Bleu feel extra special in a house full of older boys.) It was a fun-filled day.
Buby used his Irish pillow case (a Grandma DJ creation) to catch all the flying candy. So much of it! The float riders were actually aiming for him. Per usual we sent all the artificial sweets into the city with Daddy the next morning... he works in an office full of girls, and candy goes a long way.
But before that Bleu smiled up at me with her big brown eyes and said... "Mama, Daddy's office sure is going to be happy. Can I try one horsey kiss first?" Bien sure. I pocketed a few Smarties myself.
The second parade happened a week later in our home village, and Buby and Bleu wanted to march in it to represent their school. Since most of their classmates live in other towns and commute to ours for private school, the parade contingent was pretty small. Just locals. I trailed slightly behind chatting with Bleu's primary directress and surveying the crowd for friendly faces, including Grandma M. Once I found her I locked arms and wouldn't let her go. She marched, too.
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