PARADE

ME:  Don’t you just love parades?  The balloons and the bands, the popcorn and cotton candy?

GRAMMY:  Standing around in the cold, freezing your ass off.

ME:  Oh, look!  There’s the high school’s marching band.  Don’t they sound great?

GRAMMY:  Yeah, if you like the sound of constipated pigs.

ME:  And there’s the mayor.  He’s doing a wonderful job, don’t you think?

GRAMMY:  Yep.  He’s taken more bribes this year than anyone in the entire history of the world.

ME:  Oh!  Miss New Hampshire!  I heard she’s going to be a brain surgeon.  Not only pretty, but smart, too.

GRAMMY:  Smart enough to date the head judge of the contest.

ME:  Oh, and look at the clowns!  They’re so funny.

GRAMMY:  You’re ignoring me, aren’t you?

ME:  Yes.

(pause)

ME:  Oh, look, Grammy!  The Fire Department!  God, they’re so hunky in uniform.  And they look so much better out of them.

GRAMMY:  Where?  Move the hell over and let an old woman see.  (sigh)  Don't you just love a parade?

Photo:  merlinprincesse