A Holiday

Parade day, rushing to get a best view, tugging at her fathers belt pointing to a vendor. Money and ice cream exchanged one hand holding, dripped on in the heat, the other waving a flag, too young to know what it was more about than just marching bands girls smiling, twirling batons and people in suits, arms raised as if hugging from convertible cars. She didn't care as mother wiped her Chocolate swirl face sighing over what fell on her dress. Later on the ride home as if she'd been recharged chatty she rambled on from the back seat, asking too many questions making too many professions, her mother and father looked at each other and smiled.