Homecoming...

I went to an all-girls high school (don't picture the uniform: we didn't have one, and I was more likely to wear loose clothes and birkenstocks than a short plaid skirt with knee highs). We did not have a football team, nor a cheer leading squad, though I must say we had one heck of a spirit club. We wore blue and white striped rugby shirts and were very loud! Anyhow, we never had a homecoming in the traditional sense of the whole community coming out to watch a game, a dance, a bonfire, pep rallies, etc. It turns out that while Cimarron Schools may not have a football team, they go to great lengths to celebrate homecoming during basketball season. This past week the kids had different themes for dress each day. There was a big pep rally on Thursday, in which the high school classes competed in several silly events. There were basketball games Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. The bonfire was on Friday night, and the dance was on Saturday night. The highlight for me was the parade on Saturday. I had not planned to do anything but watch the kids on their floats from a sunny spot along the highway. I got a ride in with Marie and found the van mostly empty. It turned out that David stuck around (instead of going to check in on his mom again) for the important role of driving the Miami firetruck in the parade. The Salas children were not riding on floats at all, but they wanted to ride on the fire truck. I don't think Sara would have been allowed to ride on top without me, and I am not sure about Andres. It occurred to me that I had really no right to riding in a homecoming parade as I am not a teacher, parent, or student of the school. But there I was with Sara in my lap waving like I thought I was a princess. It was fun. It was brutally windy, and it was cold. I gave up my vest and mittens to Sara, who was under dressed for the weather. In my right hand, I held on tight to a large American flag on a pole. The wind was ready to rip it out of my hand, and I am sure it looked extremely patriotic as it snapped and rippled in the wind. It was a fun parade. Below is the picture of the junior class float. Each class was a branch of the military, so the floats were thus decorated. The juniors built a boat frame on top of a flat bed trailer for the Coast Guard.

On the way to the parade, we came across 500' of fire hose stretched out along the highway, as if someone dropped the end off the top of the truck and it slowly unraveled it self. Marie, Andres, and I, with the help of someone driving the other direction, expediently pulled it all off the highway. Then Marie slowly dove forward, while I stuffed it in the truck with clearly no order. We shoved it in as best we could, and then with a little luck, we got the door shut. She called Dave, who had no idea he had lost the hose, let alone had it on board in the first place.

These two little cherubs, now warmed up, had to share a seat because the other seat, the back seat, and the trunk were full of hose. Marie, like a fair and just mother, honored Andres' turn to ride back in the fire truck with his dad.

I was glad to have helped. The gentleman who stopped to help joked about how Dave was going to have to owe us beer to keep this under wraps. I figured there was no chance of keeping it under wraps, especially running into another volunteer at the parade. I figured it was a learning opportunity for me to get to learn how to roll up and stow the hose when we got back. We disconnected the six hoses from each other and rolled them up separately, hoping it would make them more secure and low profile on the roof of the truck. As we pulled the hoses out and apart, I tugged on one end while Dave helped from the other. He stopped to move another hose, and as I kept tugging, I caught him under the jaw with the end of the hose. He staggered away holding his face. I got him to take his hands away to see if there was blood or missing teeth, but all looked okay. He was still just moaning and holding his face, clearly dazed. I apologized and apologized, but clearly there was little I could do. I offered to find ice, but he waved it off. Marie commented on the swelling by his ear, which come to find out was his jawbone. I dislocated his jaw for him, and he couldn't close his mouth or open it! This we learned after he popped it back in place. NUTS! What a homecoming...hopefully, next year will be less eventful!