A full day spent at the State Fair. Eight and a half hours to be exact.
It was confirmed that there is something novel and fantastic about the view from Dad’s back, and Pete got his first taste of stroller-envy. Stroller-envy is a common ailment that parents experience when they see doo-dads or contraptions on another’s stroller that would simplify their life right at that moment. In our case, the stroller-envy was directed at those with a double stroller big enough for two tired kids halfway through the day 😉 So we got resourceful and nestled our kids in with each other. Nobody fell off. A success.
We practiced our distraction skills in the Museum of Texas State history. Here, Gabe discovers how much more interesting the ceiling is than the delicate displays of state treasures. Somehow Dads have a way of making things more fun.
And despite kids being a little unsure on the way TO the fair about riding the Ferris Wheel, somehow the tables were turned once we were actually standing under it. The kids got all fired up and it was Pete and I who took turns looking up, then looking at each other with a slight hint of panic in our eyes. Had the youngest not been so determined to control his own body once inside our little cabin (read: not felt the need to violently revolt at the vile suggestion of coercion by being held onto gently while 200ft in the air, his evil mother thwarting determined attempts to stand up and lean over the edge and say, “Whoa!!!!!!!” at the view), I might have had a picture from the top…but alas, no picture this time.
But it was a great and full day, full of all the wild wonders of a State Fair…bellowing game attendants, wild rides with lights flashing, ever-increasing numbers of people as the day wears on, impressively priced deep-fried and sugared food, sore feet, trying to keep a group together. But while all that is completely stimulating and, at times, frustrating and annoying, the reflection on the day remembers very little of that.
At the end of the day, our reflections remember being together as a family. We remember wrestling on the lawn in bare feet, laughing over silly family caricatures drawn, processing how the dancing figures on the black-lit puppet stage were really just puppeteers dressed in black and not scary figures. We recall the sparkle in a boys eye just as a ferris wheel ride starts, or the novelty of a little goat that takes an affection to you amidst an ocean of people trying to feed and pet him.
It’s seeing the creations entered from people around the state…knit sweaters, model cars, action heros, lego creations…and taken the time to enter them in the contests. It’s knowing about the ONE stand in the *whole fair* it seems that makes REAL lemonade, and getting a big cup to share.
Yeah, there’s a reason you brave the craziness of the Fair….it becomes a fantastic, wonderful, and rich memory…together.
Is braving the crowds and wildness too much or are there things/memories you LOVE about going to big fairs?