The parades scheduled to roll this evening have been rescheduled or canceled due to an impending storm.
My two year-old slumped visibly when I told him. This mom did not slump. I cheered, silently, so as not to upset the partially mucus-filled lungs. Taking all three kids to the parades last night did no good for my health. Of course, if I could resist dancing to the beat of all the drummers, perhaps I would have felt much better.
(As an aside, my eldest told me that the Marine Corps band that marched last night was the best she'd heard in all the parades. My response was, "Baby, the Marines are good at everything.")
So, tonight, my children will lament the lack of throws and full-sized plush toys they could garner from the masked riders. I will be printing query letters for the agencies that don't accept emails and emailing the agencies that don't accept snail mail queries.
Yep, I'm doing it. I'm setting myself up for rejection in an attempt to really get The Solicitors of Abigail Bruce published.