May The Bubble In Your Chest Not Choke You To Death - And Other Lovely Irish Blessings Upon You
Okay, so I'm not generally a parade-going kind of gal, but Misterpie found out that Toronto has a St. Patrick's Day parade (did you know that? I, personally, did not, but there you are.) and was all set to go stake out a curbside seat. So we did, and he did, right at Bloor and Bellair.
And because it's a corner, where traffic might be tempted to try to flow, there were two police officers standing just a bit ahead of us, between us and the parade.
And because I don't attend parades too often and the most recent has been a Macy's Thanksgiving one (hey, I said it's been years, didn't I?) and not very celtic in flavour, I had forgotten about the bloody bagpipes. I have a bagpipe problem. I don't know why, I really don't, but I cannot hear the keening and droning and skirling of a set of pipes without choking up. Seriously choking up. And here they come up the road.
Just as they are passing by, one of the police, a younger Asian man, turns around and looks right into my face. My face slightly pinched and misshapen with the effort of not breaking out into heaving sobs for no apparent reason. I'm thinking to myself, "This man thinks I'm a freaking moron. And I can't really disagree..."
Please tell me someone else has this bizarro reaction, too?
P.S. - I have a new post up at MommyBlogsToronto!