Purple confetti rains from the sky as he pushes open the heavy wood door. Boom boom boom! The festival drums rattle the windows. He grips his empty wooden tray and grins at the colorful street. "Time to find the best tradition!" he shouts.
The warm, toasted smell of sesame seeds floats from Mrs. Chen's bright red booth. She twirls a shiny dessert onto a stick. He bounces on his toes, takes the sweet, and sets it on his tray. "One tradition down, more to find," he whispers.
Golden churros flip high into the air at Mr. Vega's table. He catches a warm, cinnamon-dusted piece in a napkin and lines it up next to the sesame ball. He taps his foot to a distant accordion tune. "Two sweet traditions, but where is the dancing?" he asks.
He spins around to chase a happy trumpet tune. Snap! His sneaker catches a loose paper banner, tipping the wooden tray forward. He covers his eyes as the sesame ball rolls through a puddle of green mint syrup and glues itself to the churro. He assumes everyone will yell at him for the huge mess.
A lively marching band stomps into the square. Mrs. Chen and Mr. Vega rush over, stare at the sticky, bright green creation, and burst into loud laughter. They grab his hands and pull him into a fast, spinning street dance. He cheers, holding the wild dessert high up in the air.
The music slows to a quiet stop. He steps back, breaks apart the messy treat, and chews a crunchy, minty bite. He passes the sticky pieces around with a huge, open smile. The empty wooden tray sits quietly on the cobblestones.
