In All Fair-ness ...

It's that time of year again! Time for rides, games, fried foods and greasy, scowling carnies. Yep, that's right: today we took the kids to the land of the five dollar lemonade the fair. Ohhh joy.

Don't get me wrong. I would go to any length, pay any amount, to see the looks of pure, childish excitement on my boys' sweet little faces. (Okay, scratch the "pay any amount" part, 'cause that's a lie ... I'm a total cheapskate.) But for one, the humidity was like eight thousand percent today. And secondly ... I'm on the verge of entering my ninth month of pregnancy. Put those two together - and throw in some uncontrollably frizzy hair for good measure - and Rita gets a little testy.

Not only that, but there's this: the ridiculous expense of a couple hours at the carnival. On top of paying $20 for admission, we got to fork over fifteen extra bucks for twenty lousy tickets.

And I couldn't even ride.

Not that I minded. I would have gotten stuck in the seat.

Anyway, the kids had fun riding the trains that go around and around. The motorcycles that go around and around. The cars that go around and around. The boats that go around and around. And Curtis and I joined the ranks of other parents, hooting and waving like chimpanzees as our precious cargo whizzed past. It's universal: parents at carnivals look like idiots. But how else are you supposed to get a good picture?

And speaking of good pictures, check this out. I had to take it because from where I was standing, it looked like this sign said "cooter." Hahahaha.

(I know ... I'm immature.)

After the tickets were used up, we decided to get some lunch. This was a bad idea for several reasons. One, it tacked an extra $25 or so onto our carnival expenditures. And two, everyone under the tent we ate in was ... how do I put this delicately? Ahh, screw delicacy, let's put it this way: they all required either helmets or harnesses. Which is totally fine unless you're in the company of a big-mouthed four-year-old with an underdeveloped sense of social decency. So we had to field questions about why that man was drooling and why this boy had one eye on the side of his face instead of where it belonged. Uggghhhh.

To top it off, I paid a hefty $7 for a chicken gyro that didn't even have any feta cheese on it. WTF? Greek food without feta cheese is like ... pizza without mozzarella. It just doesn't work.

All in all, though, it was much better than last year's trip to the fair ... when Colin had the mother of all tantrums, I gave his unruly little hiney a (very insignificant) swat, and some lady threatened to report me for child abuse.

Yes, really.

But that's a story for a different time. :)