I was downtown a few nights back on my way to a hair appointment.
Normally, this would probably be uneventful, but that same night the local high school was having it’s annual homecoming parade.
Judging by the crowded turnout, I guess it’s a pretty big deal around here.
The floats were all lined up on the same street as the salon I was going to, so much to my dismay, I had to park about four blocks away and walk past all the parked floats.
Floats filled with bored, loud, obnoxious high schoolers.
It was just starting to occur to me that these kids were over a decade younger than me when I hear this:
“Hey! It’s JUNO!”
It was one of the float kids. Yelling, and I can only assume because I was the lone young-looking and visibly pregnant girl on the sidewalk, in reference to me.
Which was immediately followed by a small crowd of kids chanting,
“JUNO. JUNO. JUNO. JUNO!”
OMG. They probably thought I went to school with them.
I called my husband and told him what was happening.
He suggested that I holler back and ask them if they have any Sunny D.
Seriously, I’m not a fan of teenagers.