Thanksgiving Day Parade

You know what I miss? I miss seeing the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV. What's that you say? You believe they still have the Parade on TV?

No, they don't.

Oh, don't get me wrong. It's listed as being on. Two stations in my area claim to show it. But they don't actually show the parade. They show two people talk about the parade. Then switch to a performance. Then to a commercial. Then back to two people talking about the parade. You get lots of description about the parade. Let's not forget a view of the crowd that actually gets to see the parade. Then, finally, they show a balloon. Then, frantically, they dive back to the two talking heads, for fear they may actually show a glimpse of a marching band.

Just now, you could see Snoopy coming toward the camera, but they cut away, to show Shrek's butt some blocks away. Shrek was on his way to the other camera. Why cut to the balloon that has already gone by, to miss one of the other balloons? Now they have a special guest from a TV show and we're watching them talk about the show and a little about the parade. Meanwhile, behind them, you can almost see the parade passing by.

I can remember a time when they showed all the different spectaculars. They showed each marching band, each balloon, each float and all the various dignitary (that was when you went to the bathroom). Every now and then, there was a quick commercial. I think that's how I would like to see a parade on TV. Leave the camera in one place, to simulate standing on the side of the street, so that you get a feeling of the actual event.

Heck, I would be satisfied if we saw one hour worth of parade during the three hours. 45 minutes maybe. So much better than the 30 minutes of highlights we get now, and we have to sit through 3 hours to get it.

Hmm, let's try showing a presidential debate this way. Listen to two people talk about the debate. Cut to the crowd watching the debate. A quick 5 seconds of an actual candidate talking, then cut back to the two hosts. I might watch that.

What a Day

Came home, 4-year-old was crying. To make a long story short, ended up with three stitches.

The End.

The story was too short? Okay, the long version...

I had been sick. So I went only one place, to donate some toys, and planned to come home and take a nap. (Hey, I was still sick. Normally I can donate toys AND eat lunch before I need a nap). Anyway, so I came home, thinking fondly of the couch and a soft blanket, with the cat sleeping on me and the dog standing guard beside me.

Well, okay, the cat would have been trying to get me up to feed her early, and the dog would have been trying to get the cat. So I probably wouldn't have had a good nap anyway. Or, at least, I would have just been hiding under the blanket while the animals fought above me (imagine the cat and dog from Tom and Jerry. Um, no... no mice. I know, it's not a perfect example. It's just an image. Come on people, Focus).

What was I talking about? Stitches. Gotcha.

So I come in the house, thinking about wonderful sleep (even if it was only a pipe dream), when I'm greeted with crying down the hall. All I can think is, "now what?" My eight-year-old comes around the corner, self-righteously announcing, "See, told you you shouldn't do it." And, again, all I can think is "now what?" Then my wife comes around the corner, puts my bleeding daughter into my arms, says, "Get in the car, we're going to the hospital," and disappears to take the eight-year-old over to the neighbors.

Now, with the first kid, I used to panic. The first time my first-born had a cold (as an infant), I hurried him to the doctor. The bemused doctor looked at me and said, "This is your first, isn't it?" So, okay, I've calmed a bit since then. So, while the 4-year-old cried, I calmly gathered up what I needed, hooked her into the carseat, and had the car running, ready to go, before my wife made it back from the neighbors. Panic is, after all, inefficient.

Okay. Maybe I panicked a little. Just a little. She is my little girl, after all.

I waited until we were driving before I found out what had happened. Sometimes, it's better to get moving than to stop and ask questions. She had been showing her brother that she could balance on a dining room chair (I still don't know if she was balancing the chair on two chair legs, or transferring from one chair to another. It's a little difficult to understand a crying four-year-old). She slipped and fell face first onto the other chair, hitting her chin.

So, we now have had our first stitches. Somehow, with all the falling, with all the leaping with light sabres, with chasing Pokemon through the backyard and wrestling all his friends, my eight-year-old has managed to avoid stitches. With how active they are, and how often they push their own limits, I'm amazed there have been no broken bones and, now, only three stitches.

Think I'd like to keep it that way.

Nothing is worse than having a hurt kid. And only the kid get's the lollipop. It's the parent's who need it. Adrenaline wears off and you get shaky. No nap after that.

I love my kids. But I really miss having naps.

And a savings account. I miss that too.

I need some sleep.