Sunday, July 30, 2006

Follow the Leader

One of our favorite games was follow the leader. The funny thing about this was that this was when we were in our late teens / early twenties. Once, it was my turn to plan the family night, but I had procrastinated, and not managed to plan anything. So, on the spot, I decided to lead the whole family in a game of follow the leader, around the block. Our friend, Chris, happened to come by for a visit, and arrived just in time to see this scene: I burst out of the front door, jumping, kicking, waving my hands above my head, and yelling "BAAAAHHH!" Next comes John doing the same thing, followed by Mom, Dad, Todd, Ashley and Trent, all jumping, kicking, waving, and screaming like lunatics. Chris, to our great amusement, followed suit, and jumped out of his car in the same fashion. We then ran, skipped, hopped, and acted like fools in general, single file around the block.

We also played this game on many occasions on Friday or Saturday nights. We'd go for long walks, John, Chris, and I, (at ages of between 17-20) and play follow the leader along the highway, or world in general. It was great fun, and we got many a strange look (which was half of the fun). Once, some teens, who we didn't know, rode by in their car and yelled "What are you doing?!!" To which John replied "Can't you tell, I'm doing THIS!" as he was marching like a much exaggerated, wind up, toy soldier, with his knees coming almost up to his chin and his arms coming up over his head. The guy in the car then yelled "Oh my Gosh, you're a FREAK, why don't you kill yourself!!" We all had a hardy laugh at that, and went on our way acting like the weirdos that we are.

We also played follow the leader in various other places, such as the grocery store, on many occasions when we were in our early twenties. We got many a strange look! It was also great fun to go to the grocery store dressed up in very strange costumes, such as bathrobes, Bozo wigs, and any other strange assortment of clothing that we could come up with.

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