Fairaphobia

Once upon a time, the fair was a magical place....a wonderland of riotous color and light, scented with the pinks of cotton candy and the browns of all things fried. The rides were flashy, filthy, and terrifying. Even my mom and dad would occasionally get sucked in and climb into some ridiculous ride with me. My mom once rode the Super Loop with me...remember that one? Around and around and around. Then backwards. Then they'd stop you at the top so you dangled upside-down for a while. To this day she swears the carnie let the ride go an extra 5 minutes because he thought it was funny that a 'mom' was brave enough to ride! We did get a curiously long turn... My dad once got on a roller-coaster with me in California...but that's a story best left for another time.

Anyway, my point is that the fair was once a fun and much anticipated event. WAS, that is, up until the Great Puking Incident of 1988 anyway. And no, it wasn't ME who puked. Remember the Zipper? At least that was what it was called in the '80s...the ride that works on the same orbital principle as your mix-master where it revolves (vertically) like a ferris-wheel but your individual cage spins also. So, imagine you're a young teenager, your parents have trusted you to go to the fair without them, you're feeling giddy and free and you've just hopped onto the first ride of the night. The Zipper. They load and off-load much like the ferris-wheel, one car at a time, so all the people above you may or may not have just spent the last 3 minutes spinning madly about and churning up all the fantastic fair food so recently consumed. You get the idea, right? BLAT! It splattered all down my left side, in my hair, the works.

Magical fair mystique...GONE. Kaputz. Finito.

So thank goodness for offspring...those enchanting little creatures that force us to see the world anew, through unbiased eyes, free from the knowledge that those rides get torn down and reassembled approximately every 10 days. The boys were so ridiculously ecstatic about going to the fair this year that I couldn't help but catch a little of their mania. We were very nearly thwarted by the dreaded H1N1 but managed to get there on Friday before they packed up and set off for another eager town.

We started our evening viewing the natural world. Grant loved holding the baby ducks and chicks. He didn't want to leave to do anything else.

Um, pardon the tacky bra strap. I could Photoshop that out but frankly, I'm tired and I don't think I care that much.

The rides were next on the agenda. Only 3 rides for each boy, however, because it is STUPID expensive! $3 per ride is worth it though when it gets a smile out of your big kid (especially when the big kid has a no-smiling policy).

The boys LOVED the Super Slide. I still can't believe they both agreed to do it. Grant's so small that he went a little airborne coming over that second hump!

We didn't actually ride the ferris-wheel. That would've cost our little family another $16. Extortion. Yeesh.

Next the boys wanted to play all the games and win all the fabulous prizes.

The 4-year old throwing darts...watch out!

And this year we got so much more than just 3 darts for $5. Yes! Our children were blessed to be schooled in the ways of the mannerly by the toothless and tattooed carnies of the midway. After the boys would play, they would be asked, "What do you say to your parents for buying you that game?" One carnie lady even made sure to check that it was okay that she give Jaden the toy gun prize he chose because, "Some parents are uncomfortable with guns you know." Well, who knew the fair was so dog-gone classy?!

On the way out, we stopped to make one final purchase of cotton candy, churros, and light sabers (because the 27 sabers we already have at home are just plain insufficient).

So maybe I'm a fan of the fair once again. Everybody walked on their own, nobody whined, there were no meltdowns when it was time to leave, and best of all, I didn't get puked on.