I love laughing with my daughter. This weekend we went to a Flag Day parade and got a prime spot right where the marching bands, convertibles with bejeweled princesses, clowns, men’s club members driving miniature cars at alarming speeds, and horseback riders all queued up to begin. Toddler Harbat pointed with her little finger at a poodle wearing a star-spangled top hat who rode in a convertible hot rod and panted happily at everyone.
“Look Babbo! That dog’s wearing a hat! See! I told you!”
We had a good laugh at the dog, more laughs at the clowns, and cheered when the floats went by, dragging sparkly streamers and gently swaying under the weight of a dozen waving beauty queens. One of the great things about being a parent is realizing what a good friend your child has become. TH, my wife and I watched the whole parade drift by until the Boy Scouts picked up the trash and the street sweeper truck swung in arcs by the gutter, brushes hissing and ushering people home. At some magical point we weren’t two adults with a baby, but three friends enjoying a spectacle.