I finally look out the front window to discover I'm besieged by a small army.
Oh dear. They've finally come for me.
The lynch mob is curious though, for two things. One is the prevalence of headwear - namely red toques with white pom-poms. And two is that I see every single individual in profile. Their necks are craned, heads all swiveled to the North - as in - the North Pole.
I hear the distant drums that can only mark the coming of a kilt-wearing marching band. The blast of a fire truck's horn nearly knocks me off my feet. I scramble to close the blinds. How to escape? The sidewalks are jam-packed with kidlets riding the shoulders of their mule-parents. The parking lot will be barricaded. Damn!
There's only one man who could be behind all this. Yes. That rosy-cheeked bastard we call Santa.
I must hole up and wait out the siege. I turn on the television to find something that will drown out the street noise. Wait. What's this? Parade coverage of another Santa Clause parade. I'm truly surrounded. But wait. The street on TV looks familiar. Those shops are Streetsville shops. Re-My Sport, Pita Nutsy and U-toe-pia (on the sign, the U is shaped like a foot). Yes we have the screwiest store names ever around here. Some meth-junky, illegitimate great-grandchild of the mayor names all our stores.
I can't believe they're televising our little Streetsville sad-ass Santa parade. The commentators are making it out to be a Very Big Deal.
"Oh look! It's the Canada Post truck!"
"They're collecting letters from the boys and girls to send to the North Pole!"
"Oh, I loved sending letters to Santa! But all my N's were backwards and my D's all looked like B's!"
"And there's Bucky the Chipmunk. Everyone loves Bucky!"
"Oh, and another Ambulance!"
"It's great how the emergency vehicles have been interspersed throughout the parade! The emergency people really came through for us!"
Another beautifully decorated float. Orange and white are the new Christmas colours. Get with the times, people.
"I love my M&M meat!"
"How do you think they make that blue garland stick to the pick-up truck?"
"Must be magic!"
"Yes, it's a little Christmas magic!"
Excuse me. I have to go stick my head in a plastic bag for a while.
Nothing says Christmas like candy floss roasted on an open fire.
Up up and away! It's Supersanta.
3 comments:
You poor, poor, poor FWG. Parades are my own personal hell. I haven't seen one second of a Thanksgiving (U.S.) Day parade since I moved out of the house in 1987...and even then I did my best to stay in bed until the bloody things were over and off the TV.
The only parade I've seen as an adult that I actually liked was during the Fall Diversity Weekend in Eureka Springs.
Unfortunately, it did not happen right outside my window.
Hilarious!
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