Day Two of our reunion weekend started off with the parade party that I mentioned in earlier posts, and, as I have said, it went really well. The (totally alcoholic) drinks were a hit, the weather actually cooperated (a serious deluge of rain the night before dampened the festivities under the tent at the country club and it continued to rain for most of the night), and, we had an amazing turnout, including folks from classes both ahead of and behind ours.
One of my childhood friends, and a fellow graduate of '87, is now the principal of Mayberry High (the rest of my classmates and I are still wrapping our heads around that one) and he made arrangements for the band to stop in front of Mom's house to play the school song, which, brought tears to many eyes and smiles to all faces.
He also arranged to have the school mascot pose for pictures with us, which was awesome.
After the parade, we went to a picnic at another classmates home, and, here is where the awkwardness notched up to 20 on a scale from 1-10.
While the adults were enjoying beverages and good conversation, the younger members of the party were playing basketball in an area not far from the house. My fellow bar hostess has a son who is nine and Mrs. Shane (remember her from the previous night's Most Awkward Moment?) has a son who is eleven. The boys were part of the basketball game, and, at one point, my friend's son came screaming bloody murder, clutching his side and in tears. Mrs. Shane's son shot off into the house like a guilty cat, and, when the story came out, I couldn't blame him.
During the basketball game, my friend's son passed the ball to Mrs. Shane's son, accidentally hitting him in the chest. Mrs. Shane's son picked up a plank of wood that was laying nearby and proceeded to hit my friend's son in the ribs with it three times.
My friend did her best to both comfort her son and to comfort Mrs. Shane, who was understandably upset, but, who chalked up the incident to her son's "little anger problem".
"Little anger problem"?
The Shanes left immediately after the incident, and, while icing down the rapidly darkening bruise on my friend's son's rib cage, we noticed smaller, darker spots on the site of the injury; come to find out, the plank of wood had a rusty nail in it, and, the kid was lucky he got hit with the side that had the head of the nail protruding from it, rather than the side from which the nails end protruded.
What a mess.
Anyhoodle, the chances of the Shanes attending the next reunion are probably pretty slim.
The rest of us had a great time, though.
Thirty years later and we all picked right up where we left off. I don't know if that is because we attended such a small school or because we basically attended that school from kindergarten through graduation, but, I feel blessed, regardless.
Can't wait until the next time we all meet again.
With less bludgeoning of small children, I mean, obviously.