Forget dressing up a "Flashing Cow" and showing people your teets at Mardi Gras. The real way to bag some shiny beaded loot is to impregnate your wife and then dress her up as a Bun in the Oven.
For Mardi Gras day, Betty wore her man-made Kenmore oven and I dressed up in some an LSU apron, mitts and a chef's hat, and together we walked down St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans. All we heard the whole way was, "Awww, look at that, a bun in the oven - that is so cute!" and "Are you sure that bun is yours?"
Walking up and down the street tired Betty out pretty quickly, and once she sat down to rest I became rather restless. My Middle Child Syndrome makes it nearly impossible to not be the center of attention for too long in one span, so I resorted to being as obnoxious and loud as possible by banging a large plastic spoon against the bottom of a plastic bowl, as if banging a drum, and singing Mardi Gras songs at the top of my lungs. I banged the drum slowly, if you know what I mean. The act of banging the bowl got people's attention, then I would turn the bowl over and let people use it as a target for their beads. Let's just say that I need to bring a bigger bowl next time.
Speaking of next time, next year we'll have a little baby and there will no longer be a bun in the oven. This will seriously hamper our ability to catch a lot of loot.
I guess I'll just have to work on knocking my wife up again for the 2010 Mardi Gras season.
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