I find myself having a really difficult time getting on the patriotic bandwagon these days, politically speaking. Nonetheless Alli enthusiastically donned her red, white and blue, and I was hit with crashing waves of nostalgia thinking back to July 4, 1976, when I was just about Alli’s age, organizing all kinds of fetes in honor of the bicentennial. I find myself funnily struck by the onset of the times in her life that she will surely remember for all time, as if somehow that means that any slack I was cutting myself in parenting is no more.
Somehow this is the first holiday we were around and actually made it to the renowned Evanston 4th of July parade, and it was also Alli’s first parade experience. Excluding the moments of tears and massive ear-holding over the emergency vehicle sirens and the over-the-top-load rally car engine revving, it was a highly entertaining way to spend 2 hours. A real showcase of the eclectic, eccentric, simultaneously big and small town nature of Evanston.
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