Cowboy boots pinch your toes

Tomorrow is a big day in our town. Huge. It’s the kick off of Fiesta de los Vacqueros. It means Celebration of the Cowboy. Now some of you who don’t live here may think, what? But I’m telling you it’s a big freaking deal.

Our school are not closed for President’s Day. Nope. We were forced to go to school on President’s Day but we talked out Lincoln and Washington and whomever else might be appropriate at the time. Then we’d get off Thursday and Friday of the next week because – RODEO! This has been going on since like 1925.

Our town loses its mind over rodeo. On Thursday the World’s Longest Non-Mechanized Parade closes down half of down town and for like 37 hours dancing horses and wagons and folklorico dancers march down the street. Every year it gets longer and longer and longer until you hope for death while you’re sitting on a cold curb getting more and more desperate to go pee because you’ve had fourteen cups of coffee.

The rodeo itself has cowboys — and vacqueros — from all over the world come to win a gazillion dollars in prize money.

Now that I’m an adult and I have a job, I’m expected to work during the Rodeo break. This makes be bitter. It’s not because I want to participate in the parade or go to the rodeo (they’re very dusty – ick), I just don’t want to have to wear pants and be a grown up. My Honey works for the school district, so he’s off, and the kids are off, of course. They’ve decided to eschew the parade this year. Instead they’re going to wake up late, eat waffles, and watch the parade on tv. I will be going to work and being pissy about it.

Every business has a rodeo sale and the entire town digs out their boots and hats and western cut shirts. Do not try to go to one of our ten thousand steak houses over this weekend. The wait will be ninety-seven hours. That doesn’t stop us, though.

No. My Honey’s birthday often falls on Rodeo. When he was a kid, his mother told him the parade was in his honor. No ego issues here. On Friday – during the middle of this giant hullabaloo – the entire extended family is going out for steak at one of our more famous steak houses.

Say a prayer for me. I’ll be the one in the cowboy hat glaring at the back of the line.