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Monday, 17 June 2013

KP, not the kitchen kind, the Kingston kind

Kingston Pride last Saturday, Emily driving, two carseat dwellers and me for 2 hours in a car.  You have to really want to march in a Pride parade to undertake this operation.  Picture the four of us 2 hours down, splash pad, parade, splash pad, lunch, playground, splash pad, Starbucks, A & W in Brockville, home again, home again jiggety-jig in 12 hours.

The plan was going well until we hit the first splash pad.  While Robyn and I were screaming and running between fountains of really cold water, and Em was feeding Maddy, the parade left without us!  Water shoes off, bathing suit (Robyn's) off, sunscreen again, drop Robyn in stroller, run for 10 blocks (not the parade route) pushing the stroller to meet Kingston Pride at a crucial corner, where it turned out, the parade was not coming.  We run two more blocks and we can see them coming, but frankly, I am breathing heavily but since no one knew why, I decide to move ahead with grace and join up.  We go confidently towards the parade, but as the last contingent hollers its way around the corner, I realize we've missed the PFLAG group we were to march with.  More running, parasol waving its fuschia PFLAG message when not smacking tall people in the crowd, time to take a deep breath, then dignified walking and "Happy Pride!ing" from me and Robyn for the rest of the parade.

We met up with Emily and Maddy back at the park and had a leisurely lunch--mine was hot dog with olives, and serenity set in.

Serenity didn't exactly last as Robyn managed to lose us on the sidewalk outside Starbucks and all of us except Maddy had a meltdown at the A & W, where I was amazed to see how many women my age painted their toenails blue, green or deep purple.

Still, an experience not to be missed.

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