Sometimes I feel like I should warn people that I have this blog, and that if they piss me off, odds are I will end up writing about them.
That would take all the fun out of it.
Among the exceedingly long list of things we must do every year is attend the pancake breakfast and parade for the county fair. Which means waking up early for no particular reason on a Saturday morning during a time of the year that we have nothing else going on to sit on hay bales and eat with total strangers.
We've done this for enough years now that we have it down to a science. We drop off chairs and blankets to save our spot for the parade first, then go eat. Then we have good seats to watch the parade.
It works great. In theory.
Thing is that the world is full of rude people. The kind of people who show up at the last minute and squeeze their way in. Last year this huge beast of a woman with the worst BO ever stood right behind me, leaning on me half the time. It really enhanced my viewing experience.
This time around, I thought we were good even after the last minute squeezers started showing up.
Then this happened.
Which was awesome. I really did stake out a good spot and arrive early so that I could stare at this woman's ass for over an hour. The front view was even more spectacular, I must say.
It got to the point where she kept edging out a little further so that she could take pictures of every parade entry. Because grown women need to take that many pictures of a parade.
I can just see it now, this amazing scrapbook she is going to construct to cherish her memories of a small town parade.
It was obvious she didn't put laundry high on her priority list. Or personal hygiene.
At some point, my husband got annoyed. By then, she was blocking our entire family's view. You can see Aidan's arm here on the edge of the frame, sitting, watching. Like normal people do. Because I teach my kids manners. But I digress.
So he walked over, tapped her on the shoulder and asked her very nicely if she could step back or sit down.
She stared him down with lasers coming out of her eyes. I swear she turned into a WalMart attired Godzilla. I was waiting for her to break a foot off, but I guess those days must be behind her. She totally ignored what he said. Walked further out into the street.
So I did what I had to do. Pulled out my phone and snapped a photo.
If this is what I'm being forced to watch at the parade, I'm gonna take a picture of it and post it online.
Godzilla, you've been immortalized.
You are welcome.
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