The husband and children are going to be in a parade this weekend. They’ve been in local parades and parades in much bigger cities. They’ve been in so many parades that they are parade professionals. They know the hurry up and wait rhythm and they know the funny wrist wave. I have been in exactly one parade.

When I was in elementary school, my parents enrolled me in a tap and baton class. Performing arts classes were what everyone in our neighborhood expected little girls to do while the boys played a different sport every season. When it came time for the Fourth of July community parade, the tap and baton teacher told my mother I wasn’t allowed to embarrass her with my uncoordinated attempts at either activity. I could hand out candy in the parade and then I should not take up space in her classroom afterward. My parents didn’t waste money attempting to force a talent on me ever again.

Parades need audiences, too. That’s my talent. Sitting. Which brings me back to this weekend’s parade.

“Are you going to be spinning sabers or rifles in the parade?”
“The band director says we have to pass out candy.”