Fat Patrick's Day

S and A weren't feeling so hot on Mardi Gras, so we stayed home from our usual Tuesday at the library. That was OK with me, since I'm too scared to tell our librarian that we "misplaced" a book on baseball that we borrowed. Seems it vanished into thin air, or gotten tossed out of a car window while driving on the highway, or flushed down the toilet, or left out in one of the many snowstorms we had this winter, or . . . well, the possibilities are endless.

But I digress, we stayed home. While our King's Cake was in the oven, the Salad decorated masks and I taught them about Mardi Gras, or Fat Tuesday. They also know that St. Patrick's Day is coming up and A has been getting confused, asking when Fat Patrick's Day is. Cracks me up every time.

But I digress, we decorated masks. Then we colored some jesters and practiced our letters writing MARDI GRAS. Before lunch, we gathered a bag of clementines and candy and beads for our "parade" later in the afternoon. I taught them the words to "When the Saints Go Marching In." Of course that opened a can of worms I was unprepared for, when asked where do the saints march into?

But I digress, we learned the song. After quiet time, I asked them each to choose a dress up outfit and a musical instrument. Then we had our parade and I marched that Salad through every room of our house. I even marched them into the half bath in our master bedroom, herding them like cattle into a room measuring 3' x 3'. They laughed hysterically when I started throwing clementines, candy and beads at them, all the while singing and playing "When the Saints Go Marching In." It was at precisely this moment that our friends down the street knocked on our door to invite us to play, but we were singing so loudly that we didn't hear them. What must we have looked like to their nanny as she peeked in our window, me throwing fruit at a disorganized marching band of youngsters?

But I digress, we marched. We finished off Fat Patrick's Day with Bourbon Chicken, King's Cake and big smiles.