She's a grand old flag...

Saturday night was the Christmas Parade here in downtown Ogden. I took my kiddos and we went to see the sights. There were many to be had. My beloved bagpipes were playing and I got a little teary eyed listening to them. I know my blood runs deeply Italian, but I often wonder if there is Scottish in there somewhere. The grand Marshal of the parade was a 5 year old with Leukemia. Her float drove by and I waved and waved. I was a little teary eyed watching that sweet girl float by. The police rode by on their motorcycles and I said "There goes the policemen! They keep us safe" and my voice caught. Maybe my gratitude for law enforcement has risen since I moved out of Utah Valley to Ogden. Despite all of this, I was unprepared for my reaction to the flag. We were front row and close to the Honor Guard. Halle stood reverently with her hand on her heart. Jack stood picking his nose with his right hand and his left hand somewhere around his belly button. I stood there sobbing. There was no stopping it. I only gained control when a man standing in the middle of the road snapped a picture of us. I thought to myself "Whaa? Who is that?" Then it hit me. He was a newspaper photographer. Heaven help me! Big Mama could be on the front page of the ghetto newspaper! And what's worse is I totally looked like I belonged. I was wearing Greg's coat that comes to my knees, Halle had on two different colored gloves and then I took a closer look at my son. He obviously needed to go potty as he was holding a hostage, and he had given up on that snotty nose. Surely nobody would publish a picture of that cruddy little obscene boy. I just stood there with my kids and cried. I thought to myself "Here I am....standing on Washington Blvd having myself a moment. Man, I'm proud to be an American...."