We ARE the Fourth of July Parade.

We filed down the side of the street, a red white and blue line headed up by a father pushing a toddler in the stroller, a mother with a baby strapped to her torso, and four little hooligans in between. I could almost hear the people we were passing whispering and crossing their fingers, "Please don't sit by us, please don't sit by us." We finally claimed our little plot of curb along the parade route and set up camp. All of the children around us suffered significantly reduced candy profits apon our arrival. We tried as hard as we could to keep our children minding the "parade etiquette". No cutting other children off, especially toddlers. No running out in front of the farm machinery. And most importantly, feed mom and dad a steady supply of candy.

All in all it went well. Some highlights:

• Watching barefoot Jack jump up and down and squeal at the sight of the first tractor. His eyes lit up as bright as the fireworks themselves.
• Chuckling as the children scrambled for the few pieces of candy that were NOT Tootsie Rolls.
• Tyler and Caedmon's "almost" red hair. Very patriotic. We are still quite a few shampoos away from their natural color.
• Lots of new pencils and pad of paper.
• One "float" (if you can call it that) threw out a box of Mucha Lucha fruit snacks. Bonus.

There is just nothing like a small town Iowa parade. Let me sum it up in three words:

Tractors. Horses. Old cars.