Ever since I met my friend Laura at DragonCon two years ago, Henry has been begging to go. Secretly I’ve been wanting to go back!

Last year, we were out of town and it didn’t work out to go down to the parade. There was much disappointment.

You see, 50,000 sci-fi, cartoon, comic, fantasy, EVERYTHING ELSE YOU CAN IMAGINE fans descend on downtown Atlanta to showcase their movie-grade costumes, fandom, and general amazingness. On Saturday morning, there is a parade. From what we have heard, the parade is epic. The biggest draw is supposedly the group of Storm Troopers who take part at the end of the parade. They were the real reason we went.

Saturday started off like every other Saturday.

A drive downtown.

A trip to Starbucks.

What? You don’t have steam punk military aviator men in YOUR Starbucks? {lame}

We enjoyed milling around the Marriott for a while. I thought Jason’s head might spin off when he saw all the costumes and elaborate contraptions people had.

Henry just wanted a picture with Star Wars people.

After Lynn wouldn’t wake her butt up to come downstairs to see me, we decided to mosey on over to the street.

Some people moseyed more awesome than we did.

We found a little spot with a wall we could stand on. It was right in front of the Capital City Club (that will be important later) and off the street a little.

We waited. And waited. And waited. Luckily we were there early enough to get a spot where we could see because 90 minutes before the parade even started, this is what the crowd looked like.

And people KEPT piling in. It was at least 8 deep and then a little aisle and then 4 more deep where we were. In.Sane. People.

The parade started. It was exciting to see Stan Lee (had to look up who he was – don’t judge)

and Dean Cain (holy hotness)

and Lou Ferrigno (THE HULK).

I didn’t have to look up the DeLorean.

Or Speed Racer.

There were so many things to see, so much to overwhelm the senses and assault the imagination, it almost gave me a headache.

In the distance, we could see the Storm Troopers coming.

Up on the wall where we stood, Henry turned to me and said, “Mom, I’m really hot.”

And then he fainted.

Off the wall.

Luckily I grabbed his shirt, listening to it rip on his way to the ground. Jason put his arms under him, and in the most slow motion I’ve ever seen, guided him to the ground without hitting his head. That second, in my head, took at least three minutes.

He was out.

Jason swept him up while I grabbed the camera and Darth Maul mask and we ran. We ran through the 12-deep crowds, yelling at everyone to move out of the effing way. We yelled at the valet at the Capital City Club to let us in and busted right on up into their club.

We laid Henry down on the little bench right inside the door while the manager ran to get some water. He looked at us and said, “What happened? Did I miss the Storm Troopers?”

Yes, baby, we missed the Storm Troopers.

We missed the whole reason we came downtown on one of the craziest days of the year.

Henry cooled off quickly and we headed to the car. Walking slowly, listening to the crowds cheer at what was probably the big group of Star Wars stars… it was disappointing. To him. To me. To Jason.

Once in the parking deck, we saw people looking over the edge. Henry and I ran over and as we did, we could see the end of the parade…

It wasn’t as we planned, but Henry’s okay.

That’s what matters.

Plus, there’s always next year.