Happy 4th!

So, we made it to the parade, like we always do (I LOVE parades..especially the marching bands), only we made it with a different mode of transportation. We took our bikes. The parade grounds are only a couple miles away by car but by bike, taking back roads so Nathan doesn't end up being road kill, it's about 45 miles at the least. That's because whoever designed the back roads has a sense of humor. If you look it up the satellite map on Google, the streets spell out "Screw you, asshole.".

I was kind of hesitant to take our bikes because I know how Nathan is. He starts out all gung ho but after the first 30 miles, he starts complaining. Thankfully, I was pleasantly surprised, he didn't complain at all and he didn't hurt himself by being stupid a single time. No, the problems came because of DeWitte. He rides his bike so slow, you'd think that it had training wheels. There have been numerous situations in my life that I've been passed up by a hover chair but when that lady with the walker passed us, I knew it wasn't just me. Hell, my bike would need training wheels to go that slow.

We finally made it to the parade, which was awesome. First was the crap part of any parade, local politicians, some I wanted to throw my water bottle at, some I voted for (Hey..did I tell you that I'm not allowed to be involved in politics while doing this PTA crap? That's like asking a fish not to swim, I hope I don't explode!), then the beauty queens. It's amazing how many kinds of beauty queens we have around here. There's the regular, the pre-teen, the teen, the junior, the ethnic, the between pre-teen and junior, the between teen and pre-teen. Seems like the only requirement they have is that you have to master the wave. I'm gonna work on mine so I can be in the parade next year. My signs gonna say Mrs. Chesapeakes Middle Aged, Fat Mom 2010, which might be kind of weird but I'm pretty sure if I've mastered the wave, I'm in. I just need to get my hands on a convertible.

After the crap part came the good part. The military people, the cool Shriner cars, the marching bands, and just when I was all happy and into it, I heard them. The bagpipes. About 10 or 11 years ago, my mom made us go to to a Tattoo. Since then, every time I hear bagpipes, my ears start to bleed. I grabbed a napkin, ready for the carnage but surprisingly enough, it never happened. I guess it must only take a decade to recover from Tattoo inflicted listening injuries.

What's weird about 4th of July parades is that you never know when they're over. Parades that aren't on TV have pauses, so unless you see Santa, you have to wait a bit to see if it's really over or if maybe the middle school marching band just doesn't have it together yet.

After we confirmed that the parade was indeed over, it was another slow trek over to the park to stand in long lines. But..before that, we had to lock up our bikes. That's when I found out why DeWitte was riding so slow. Because when their bikes were stolen, DeWitte went out and bought bike locks but because we actually needed them, they were nowhere to be found. What DeWitte did find was a chain so big that I'm pretty sure it came off of an air craft carrier and a lock as big as my head. All that metal was weighing him down.

That didn't turn out to be so bad, though. I did see a lot of people watching while we stood in long lines for everything from riding the paddle boats to buying chicken nuggets and fries, so that Nathan could drop half of them the second he got them. There were a LOT of rednecks at that park yesterday! The amount of bad teeth alone was astounding. Not that we have bad teeth or anything but that chain and lock fit right in.

Finally, it was time to ride our way back home at a snails pace and I have some advice. If you are a fat, middle aged woman who hasn't ridden a bike as transportation since you got your drivers licence and you find yourself on a painfully slow 45 mile ride back home. Don't stop peddling until you're safe and sound in your own bed. That's when the real pain starts.