I was born in a small town….

Homecoming = spirit, dress up days, pep rallies, bonfires, parades, football

It’s high school and in a small town, on a scale of 1-10….. Homecoming is  a 15.

The kids in my granddaughter’s freshman class  had made signs and banners  for the parade float.   Parents had brought enough bales of straw for the students to sit on.  My job was to round up a haywagon to tote around the banners and signs and kids and drive it around town in the annual Homecoming parade.   I arrived with the wagon in tow after school on parade day.  I watched in amazement as the kids duct taped everything including  balloons with each class member’s name written on it  to the wagon.    A small group of about 8 students were there to put it all together.  One young lady was politely thanking me and seemed so nice.

“Grandma… that is my favorite teacher!”  When did teachers become so YOUNG?????

Gradually other class members arrived to ride on the wagon.  At 5:30 the kids jumped on and we slowly took off to the parking lot to line up for the parade.

Everyone was there…. I mean the entire town (population 338).  Another parent/teacher had a printed list of the parade order and I was informed that I would follow the fire truck with the cheerleaders riding on the back.

“Hey Ruth!  Did you know you have a flat tire?”   Not the words I wanted to hear.   Sure enough the back tire of the wagon was FLAT!   I called my husband and within minutes he had arrived with a new/used tire.   The pit crew went into action.

At 5:55 the jack came down, the kids loaded back on the wagon, and the band took off down the street leading the parade.   It was THAT close.

It was small town  fun…. and I had the best view of all….