I’ve often said that I was cut out to be a Boy Mommy. If I had had a girl or two, I’m sure I would have risen to the challenge, but I think the Big Man knows what he’s doing when he blesses us with our children. The thought of having to sit through a Barbie movie or a Tinkerbell marathon makes me cringe. Sitting through the new Spiderman movie on a rainy day, however . . . not a bad way to spend an afternoon.
since I am busy perpetuating stereotypes, get to do things like visit the County Fair and the Demolition Derby.
My boys had never been to a Demolition Derby. Because I grew up in a neighboring county, I am well versed in activities of the Demolition Derby / Tractor Pull / Pig Wrestling variety. I tried to explain that a Demolition Derby is kinda like bumper cars, except with real cars and real people and engines gunnin’ and mud and bald tires and . . .
Well kids, we’re gonna watch them tear some sh*t up.
Generally I avoid rides at venues such as these. I’m a tad concerned about putting my babies on a ride that was in pieces on a flatbed the day before and which was assembled by someone who has maybe a 7th grade education. My anxiety level goes through the roof as I contemplate the lack of quality control and I visually inspect every nut and bolt on a machine that is spinning my first-born around at warp speeds.
I’m sure they check the mechanics on those things every day, right? Right?! With all the mud and the cords on the ground, it’s obvious that safety is paramount.
|This totally reminds me of the|
nuggets we just got at the
McDonald's drive-thru . . .
Next we can go to the Beef Barn
to see where burgers come from.
It costs the equivalent of $4 to ride these death traps, although I’m not convinced the vendors realize we’re on to their scheme. You see, I have a college education. When I purchase 40 tickets for $40 and it then costs me 4 tickets to ride, that’s $4.
I’ve got good smarts.
Unfortunately, because it costs 4-friggin-dollars to ride and I have 3 children plus the neighbor kid who want to ride, MY children will not be going to college. We just blew their tuition on the Ferris Wheel. Sorry kids . . . hope it was all you thought it would be.
Because the Fair is a family environment and your safety is their primary concern, your 10-year-old can win a pocket knife if he wins one of the various games. Giant Styrofoam-stuffed teddy bear? No thanks, I’ll take the buck knife.
Pay no attention to his wonky eye. Surgery is scheduled for August 10, and if it’s not successful, I’m sure he can find a job in the carnival arts.