Depending on how you look at it.
So the kids and I were enjoying a quiet morning at home yesterday when I was struck upside the head—mid laundry—with one of those untoward, unwelcome temptations. You know the kind: I’m a really boring parent and I’m ruining my children.
Seriously. I called my husband up all weepy and sniffed out, “You know, the fair’s in town and I haven’t even taken them.”
He laughed in my face, then—laughed in my face! (Well, in my ear anyway.)
And he said:
“I was wondering when this was coming.”
‘Cause I, like, do it every year. I tell myself the fair is way too crazy—too pricey, too over-populated, too Fast Food Nation—and then I just guilt myself into going. Quickly. As in one minute I’m folding laundry and the next minute I’m stapling the kids into the van and taking off.
They love it, really.
And so do I.
After all, where else can you justify the consumption of something so…so…horrifically fattening and unhealthy and other-worldly and delicious as a deep-fried Twinkie?
Getting there is half the battle, as any parent of multiple little people knows. We get in through the gate (after mortgaging our home and Daddy’s car to pay the admission) and are swallowed up into a sea of locals.
I have my “What was I thinking?” moment.
And then I get over it and we have fun.
I find it amusing, you know, how despite the hundreds of people milling about, it’s the lady with the five kids who gets all the stares.
Why is that?
The very best part of the day was when Daddy got off work and came to meet us. He was just in time to wipe our 4-year-old’s tears after her brother accidentally knocked over the stroller and spilled its occupants onto the asphalt. Darn curb.
A ride in the Space Tower proved to be just the distraction we all needed. It was far too sedentary an activity to burn off the calories from the deep-fried Twinkie, but still. The view was great.
Here’s a question for you before I end this post, though: Do you not find that watching your kids on these rides is even more fun than going on them yourself? Or I am just a big, goofy, grinning parent with a camera?
Don’t tell my husband I said that.