When you think of the term ‘Fashion Parade’ you almost instinctively imagine pretty girls, pretty clothes and a runway performance like no other, or at least that’s what Mumma and I had in mind on our way to a fashion parade fundraiser this morning.

As it turns out however, we had unknowingly signed ourselves up for something completely different.

The pretty girls, the pretty clothes and the runway performance had been replaced by lovely old ladies, with clothes that were best suited for those very same lovely old ladies and a runway performance indeed like no other. It would seem that I had stepped into a fashion parade that was about fifty years ahead of my time.

The fashion side of things however, was not even close to the worst of it. It was around the time that I heard the words sing-a-long that I knew I was in trouble. Before I knew it, a room full of lovely old ladies were mid chorus and I was again left wondering, just what it was that I had gotten myself into.

Cadillacs and cataracts, and hearing aids and glasses.
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses.
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings.
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the pipes leak,
When the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don’t feel so bad.

Sitting there, praying for it to stop, I was now certain that this was far from the fashion parade Mumma and I had in mind. So far off in fact, that I had never before witnessed anything at all quite like it.

Needless to say, although the event was organised for a wonderful cause, a cause that I was more than happy to donate too, spending my Saturday morning listening to a room full of lovely old ladies sing their version of My Favourite Things was not quite what I had in mind for the day.

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