Today, around 9 a.m., there was the ungodly wail of a fire engine siren making its way in front of my house. No, the neighbor’s house was not on fire, there was no cat in a tree, and nobody was in need of medical care, unless MENTAL health counts.
Following the fire engine was a bunch of marching kids and three old people in a car.
“What the hell is this?” I asked my neighbor.
“It’s the Primary Parade.”
“Well phew. I thought the Fire Department was handing out crack, and the neighborhood kids were standing in line.”
(Note to readers: I have no idea what a Primary Parade is, or why they would want to have them, except Primary is the organization for young Mormon children who have not yet entered an age where they will probably EXPERIMENT with crack.)