NOTE: The following is a rerun of a post I first published on this site 10 YEARS AGO. (Good gourd, I can’t believe it’s been that long! I am now questioning all of my life choices!) This story happened a long time ago not far from where I sit right now. Open thread!
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I grew up in a small coastal town in Florida. Every year there was an annual holiday parade featuring an honor guard, Future Farmers of America, the school marching band, floats sponsored by local merchants and Santa and his elves on the town fire truck.
One year, my younger sister and I got to be in the parade. We were about five and six at the time, so when we were told that we were actually going to be on a float in the parade instead of mere spectators, it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to us.
Even when our mom told us we would be riding on the Florida Pest Control float (a display sponsored by the exterminator business where our grandfather worked at the time) and costumed as vermin, it didn’t dampen our enthusiasm. At least, not until we saw our costumes, which our mom spent days sewing for us. I was to dress as a rat, and that was okay with me:
However, my sister had to be a cockroach, and she was NOT happy about that, even though our mom had cleverly used fishing line to make the costume’s fake roachy arms move whenever my sister moved her real arms:
