Rooftop Parade

Ever find yourself sitting in bed quietly reading a book when you suddenly wonder, "Why is there a parade marching across the top of my house?" Me too.

We have a Friday night tradition. I make homemade pizza and we all watch a movie or play a game together. Friday nights of the past hold some of my fondest memories.

But, the kids are getting older, which means busier. So, this Friday didn't go according to plan.

First we started with a high school football game. We all went to cheer on #58 because he happens to be the world's most excellent defensive lineman. I just learned that title. I don't even know if it is right. But he owns the field with his awesomeness, and since I believe that pretty much everything he has done from birth till now is dang noteworthy, I drag all whom I know to his game so we can scream and wave things in the air. I mean, where else can you act like that?

Then, after he dominated the field, he informed me that he was totally sick and needed to go home right away. Makenna begged to stay for the rest of the football games, and, knowing how much she loves football and pays attention to every play, we told her she could ride home with some friends after it was all over. The rest of us grabbed a movie and some pizzas and hit the couch.

Midway into the movie Makenna called to say she needed a ride, so I happily threw on my slippers and marched my pajama clad self into the car and grumbled all the way across town. When we returned a bazillion hours later, the movie was nearly over. So as not to ruin the ending for myself, I grabbed a book and settled into my bed intending to watch the part of the movie I had missed at a later time. And I did not complain because moms do not complain. I may, however, have mumbled.

Just as I became wrapped up in the plot of my book, a parade marched across my rooftop. I gave my ceiling the evil eye, but the sound continued.

No worries though. It was only my precious offspring being hoisted onto the roof by THIER FATHER. My first thought was, "Why must we hoist our children onto the roof at midnight?" My second thought was, "Who decided this man was old enough to raise children?"

Then I was distracted by a lovely vision of my youngest daughter gazing at the stars, enjoying the breeze, and dancing in the moonlight. But when I mentioned this she told me, "Mom, I'm not dancing. I'm shaking out my weggie."

So, now I know: Fine entertainment is why we hoist children onto the rooftop at midnight.