Green Day

While I've attended many St. Patrick's Day parades in Savannah, today I went to see one thing:

Davis Remler, the Brigade Command Sergeant Major of the Benedictine Cadets.

I call him Lloyd.

Doesn't he look handsome? Some of my out-of-town readers may wonder if my son had been practicing for clown school prior to donning his military uniform. Actually, the red smudges are part of an old Savannah tradition. As the cadets march by, the girls slather on lipstick--the redder the better--and kiss the BC boys. Because Davis marches by himself out front, he's prime real estate on the parade route.

Oddly enough, it was the lipstick extravaganza that brought out the mother bear in me. Not that I mind the girls kissing on him so much, but when a proud mama is trying to get a shot of her son marching in the parade, she gets a little irritable when females repeatedly jump into her shot. I sat patiently by as Davis's cousins leaped on him, and his female contemporaries quickly smooched before darting back to the sidewalk. But when a woman about my age made her way toward him just as he was about to pass me by, I surprised myself by yelling at her, "Move, lady! Move out of the way!"

She did. When mama wants a picture of her boy, she gets it.
In a few years, I'll be shoving women in the middle of Abercorn to get a picture of this cadet-to-be.

Of course, I saw other friends in the parade, too. The fried chicken was plentiful, weather was beautiful, and thanks to Zyrtec, the pollen was tolerable. Another successful St. Patrick's Day parade.