Memorial Day

It used to be that we were still asleep when the parade sliced through the middle of our small city, about a block from our bedroom window.  The marching band would wake us and we'd roll our eyes at the clock, pull the covers over our heads, complain about such an early hour.
Now we’ve been up long enough to watch two episodes of Wild Kratz, play eighty five games of Tenzi and seventeen rounds of Black Jack, devour several bowls of cereal and drink multiple cups of coffee before we’re all dressed and sitting curbside, waiting for the police motorcycle to clear the way.
We told the boys about what a special holiday it is, tried to squeeze in sentiments regarding courage and sacrifice between lectures about how we can't always run out into the street or take candy from strangers.