Our first parade of Mardi Gras 2012 fell on a rainy, chilly night. We almost skipped Cleopatra, but a last minute glance at the radar showed that the rain had moved on, and we had nothing else to do on a Saturday eve, so we swept the children, their shoes, jackets, and a few diapers up into a big pile and shoved it all in the car, then drove over the Mississippi River bridge to the “Wank” (Westbank, and I did not make up that nickname). It was already dark when we turned into the Walgreen’s parking lot and pulled the kids from their carseats into their wagon. We dragged them through the parking lot puddles up to the soggy strip of grass by the street, where we joined our friends at the front of the line. We were situated right up next to a puddle as deep and broad as a baby’s wading pool – I was happy I wore my rubber rain boots.
We were a bit late; no matter, because (typical of royalty) Queen Cleopatra was running quite late herself. We could see the first float, in fact – a football field’s length away, glittering, blinking, distantly and tinnily rocking out, but not moving at all. An hour later it still sat there, teasing us, and the cold wind blew and the boys were grumpy and we pondered bailing. I’m glad we didn’t, though, because eventually we noticed that the leading edge of the float was passing the distant Taco Bell sign – it was no mirage, it was moving! When we saw the trademark purple uniforms and Roman soldier helmets of St. Aug’s band go marching by, we knew that Mardi Gras had begun.
Many of the throws were lost in a puddle that night, but we didn’t really care. The floats were moving quickly, the band students were absolutely on fire, throwing their bodies around in time to the music, blowing their horns for all they were worth. The boys caught a couple of plush toys, a clear plastic ball with a blinking fish inside it, and a beanbag whale, among other things. Our friend – who recently had back surgery – held up each of our children for probably at least an hour. He was the tallest in the group – I think they saw “maximum throw potential” written all over his 6’2″ frame. Liam showed us that he is actually capable of fear when he flipped his lid at the sound of noisy go-karts revving their engines. He screamed and wailed when they went rolling by, scrabbling up my body and grabbing me by the hair, so I walked him several feet away to “safety” from the big bad car engines until they’d all passed. Other than that, though, he was game for it all. He was desperate to ride on one of the tractors that pull the floats (TRATTOO! TRATTOO! RIDE ON THE TRATTOO, DADA!!), and liked to be carried straight up to the floats, where he would grin widely and chirp a perky “HI!” to the riders, his little one-year-old’s voice lost in the mix of the shouts and music and machines rolling by.
Jack, being the more sensitive soul of our pair of hardy boys, hates to be carried up close to the floats. He prefers observing the parade from a healthy 10 feet away or so – but as long as he’s in his self-prescribed “safe zone,” he bounces and screams and dances and waves and catches like he was born for this. We stood there, wading in and out of puddles, trying desperately to save every throw we could from certain death-by-mud-puddle (it can be hard to hold a kid and catch at the same time), and filled up our Cleopatra throw bags with all kinds of crap that we don’t really want, but love to collect. We left before the parade had ended – Jack was getting weepy, and Liam was overstimulated (to put it mildly), so it was time for bed. The boys went to sleep that night clutching their catches. Mardi Gras season was just hitting its stride.
Yes Cleopatra may have been late but she is worth it:) For those who love Egptian inspired Jewelry go to http://www.raniajewellery.com and make sure you watch the video clip.