My parade story

I just finished reading about how much you hate parades, and I couldn't resist retelling this story.

I love parades.

When I was in Russia I marched in a parade. They don't have firetrucks or zem-zems so all the people march in the parades. I went and watched, and when I saw some of my friends I started marching with them. It was exciting. It was Easter Sunday, so I figured I was marching in an Easter parade. It wasn't. It was definetly a parade /political protest to get the government to return to Communism. In all of the excitement I had failed to read the signs (or realize that my friends were all carrying Communist flags!) and I marched in a huge political parade. It was the talk of the town that week that the American had even marched in support of restoring Communism.

I still love parades.