Picture the Fourth

January 29, 2010
By , Hinsdale, IL
My eyes felt heavy and could hardly stay open as I looked at the clock. 6:30 it read. Downstairs I hear Grandma singing those weird Broadway tunes she always sings while she cooks. All of a sudden it was as if elephants were coming up the stairs. Abbey and Katie yell Maggie get up! Time to decorate the float. Ugh. No. I pulled the cover over my head even more as they tried ripping them off. Then Katie crawls on top of me and pinches me. Pinches me! At 6:30 in the morning! Getting real close to me she yells Grandma says get up NOW! Knowing that I was going to have to get up, they ran downstairs yelling and shouting. I open my eyes letting in that unwanted ray of sun. Groaning, I slump downstairs. I smell cinnamon rolls. I start to go faster. My eyes still not opening all the way, I miss a step and feel that semi-heart-attack-feeling you get when you fall. Catching myself, I finally start to wake up. As I peel my ever so crusty eyes open all the way, they catch a sparkling sensation of red, white, and blue. And here goes the Fourth of July. I run back upstairs throwing on whatever dress my mom has picked out for me this year. As I go back down, I decide to go outside since everyone else is outside. Stepping out into the sun, I squinted my eyes. Looking out I saw my entire family decorating our ‘float’, which was really just a pick-up truck, covered in whatever red, white, blue stuff our family could find. Then I see out of the corner of my eye what looks to be fireworks coming out of my sisters’ head. When I look closer I see that its one of those headbands with all the shiny red and blue streamers coming off of it. Then Grandma calls out breakfast and we all go inside to grab the cinnamon rolls. Oh those rolls. Those gooey, sweet, sticky, melt-in-your-mouth-rolls. We all finished eating. Uh-oh. Time for the pictures, the worst part of the whole day. Someone always seems to cry every year. Oh God. When it was just me things were just so perfect. As all the bigger kids sit down on the steps we all get comfortable knowing that we are going to be sitting out here in the blazing 200°F. I think I’m a pro by now because I have been doing this for nine years. We are then handed the little kids, the babies, the criers, and the troublemakers. I get Emily who is sleeping still but she is a baby so no one is going to wake her. My brother gets handed here it starts. Crying. Every year. Crying. Everyone say cheese. Snap. Crying. Cheese. Snap Riley who sits on his lap for about a second before bursting into tears. Crying. And. Crying. And so on. Every year this is pure torture. Parents talking to us like we are two. Sitting in the blazing heat. Flashes going off in our face. And what are we supposed to be smiling at? Where is the joy in this? Lets just get in the ‘float’. Okay, finally we all disband. Oh no, not the sun block. We all FINALLY get into the float. This makes everyone happy-candy time, baby. And that’s when we all hear WAH-WAH I don’t want to ride in the float. Oh no, not again we all think!

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