So last Saturday, chilly though it was, we went to the Grand Floral Parade.
We rolled into Portland about 9am, thinking that that would give us just enough time to find a good spot and get settled before the parade came by at 10.
At 10 there was still no parade. And we realized we must have picked the chilliest block in Portland. Cam and Wes went for a walk, while I held down our spot.
At 11 there was still no parade. And Wes still hadn't taken a nap. He was beginning to be grumpy, so at 11:15 I stood against the side of the building and willed him to sleep.
And then the parade came. You know the scene in Mr Holland's opus where his son is taking a nap and he sleeps through it so they thought he must have a hearing problem. I was having the same concerns about the fourth band that went by. My fears were dispelled though when a pack of old cameros came through revving their engines and Wes popped right up. He just needed the right cue.
Wes was thoroughly interested for about 10 minutes. Then he discovered that both the camp chair Cam was sitting in AND the stroller have cup holders. Which was about the coolest thing ever. That's how we knew it was time to go home.