It's BLAAAAAAAACCKK

Round 2—I just deleted the entire post.

We had another pre-teen moment. Just wait you younger siblings, it’s coming. Stop laughing Mom & Dad. I received a call from DJ which almost caused me to pull over from my drive home. The kdis had been home from school for over a week, and had had enough of being “together.” Especially Reagan, because she was the most mistreated child in history (or so she thought). DJ was making dinner conversation with the very neutral “What’s your favorite…” type of questions. He asked “What’s your favorite color?” Pretty innocent, huh? Josh loved “red.” “Pink and purple,” topped Madi’s list. Next was poor, mistreated Reagan. Poor, poor Reagan. “It’s BLAAAAAACCCCKKK,” was her reply.

We spent the night on the streets. No, not victims of some bad sci-fi film where the comet smashes into the densely populated city. We chose to do this. Willingly. And we were going to have fun at it too (we actually did!). We were going to see the Rose Bowl Parade, with front row seats. We (translated me) researched the route, had maps of all the parking areas, found out the do’s and don’ts (according to AAA and the Pasadena Police), and believed every one of them. For example, the first acceptable time to stake out your place was 11 am. Next, you would have to remain in your spot, or risk losing it. We showed up at 1 pm, and every spot was taken by ….(dramatic pause here) MASKING TAPE. Yes, there were blocks and blocks occupied by masking tape or empty chairs, and they had been there since early, early that morning. Hmmm. We found one spot that was wide enough for 3 people, moved in, and then moved the empty chairs next to us over. They weren’t there to stop us!

We unpacked—we’d put together sleeping bags, chair, China issued ski gear, mittens, games, iPods, books, catalytic heaters, and treats for each person. (Yes, it was a Sherpa moment). Next we found the porta-potties and restaurants around the corner. We had dinner, used the restroom, bought ice cream treats from the guy with the little cart, etc., and DJ and I were ready for the kids to go to bed, when we checked the time—5:17 pm. Hmmm. It would take a while longer. Everyone watched movies or listened to music while I repacked the boxes. As a child of a director of operations who was committed to lean principles, I had to have the boxes packed in such a way as to allow quick access to the items needed, while separating those which we would not use to another spot. The boxes needed to be packed in the order of use as well. Yes, I’m very anal-retentive.

Finally, kids started dropping off. Josh and Tre’ were the first ones out. They didn’t even wake up at midnight as the streets erupted with firecrackers, etc. Madi went to sleep, and finally Reagan, after she decided that she didn’t want to sleep in the reclining chair, but would prefer the sidewalk. Sometime in the night she flipped over, and her sleeping bag went in the gutter. That wouldn’t have been a problem earlier, but when I woke up, there was a ton of water running, wicking up and soaking everything. I bundled her into my bag, and spent a good chunk of the rest of the night pacing back and forth and generally glaring at anyone who came close. DJ woke up at some point, put me in his bag, and then spent his parent-patrol time making friends with the neighbors, the Chevron attendant, and the two closest sheriffs.

Morning came, and we shucked the sleeping bags, ski gear, hats, mittens, etc. as the temperature rose. The parade eventually started; Madi had two flowers thrown to her, causing a BLAAACK moment on the other end of the line, which fortunately ended fast. I stayed awaked. The kids decided that they might want to come to the parade again—in a few years. All in all, it was a very successful family outing.