This evening, I took Frankie to her school's annual Cinco de Mayo celebration. They served nachos and tamales, had tons of Mexico-themed craft activities, a live band, folk dancing, and... break dancing. (Not sure why the break dancing? Seemed a little thematically tenuous to me.)
The tamale brought back a super vivid memory. The first time I ever ate a tamale was at Taste of Chicago waaaay back when I was still in high school. I went with a bunch of friends, and we weren't exactly worldly. When I ordered the tamale, I just bit right into it. Husk and all. Of course, it tasted terrible, and I imediately threw it away in a bee-swarmed trash can. I didn't even realize until years later that I was supposed to take the husk off before eating it. No wonder it was so terrible. Duh.
Anyhow, the Cinco de Mayo celebration was really fun for Frankie. I'm glad I took her, but it was definitely one of those things that you do for your kid, not yourself. It was super crowded, and I'm not exactly a fan of wall-to-wall bodies. All of the chairs were taken, and there was barely anywhere to stand. The band was great, but they were so loud that it was impossible to talk to anyone without getting inches away from their face. It was pretty clear from looking around the room that most of the parents were having the same thought as me: This is fun, but when can I make my escape?
3 comments:
I'm impressed that her school had a Cinco de Mayo celebration. There was hardly any mention of it around here. Then again, people are distracted. I hear there is some sort of horse race this weekend...
What we do for our children. Where was Dad?
Matt was on an airplane, winging his way home from South Carolina. I don't think he's too sorry he missed the party, though.
Post a Comment