If Anyone Asks, We Weren't At The Fair...

Every year we talk about going to the Fair.

We say, "We should take the kids to the Fair this year."

And then the school sends home it's yearly code of conduct that says:

Going to the Fair is not considered an excused absence.

Which they usually follow up with:

And if you try to fake like your kids are sick and go to the Fair instead, we'll know because kids can't keep a secret, and they'll be forced to make up that missed day in June when everyone else is out enjoying summer break, and then your kids will hate you for dragging them to Fair just so that you would not buy them a bubble gun for $27 dollars and make them look at a bunch of cows and stuff.

So, we never go to the Fair.  Challenging authority makes my head swell. 

So do crowds, which is why we never consider going on a weekend instead.

But this year, Grandma was in town and she wanted to go to the Fair.  And the last time I checked, Grandma trumped School Code of Conduct.

So, we went to the Fair.

And my son got on a roller coaster for the first time...in like, ever.  It was a green dragon that never got off the ground more than about six feet, but he was fine because I was able to hold his hand and run along side of it the whole time.

Baby steps.

We ate Krusty Pups without laughing at the name.

Spent more money on scones than it cost us to get in.

Saw a crazy looking animal with a donkey body and zebra legs.  It was called a Ze-Donk.  I guess when the animal cross-breeding people are finished mixing those genes all creativity goes out the window.

And only once did my kids stand in big, long line for a ride, and then decide at the last minute that it was too fast and too scary and they really didn't want to go on it after all.

But we didn't care.  It was the Fair.

And we were happy.

Seen...Heard...Said {The Beach Edition}

"Ummmm, Mom....I don't really want to say this, but you don't look that pretty."

     My daughter upon seeing that I hadn't showered or put on make-up before getting in the car.

"Oh my God!  She just wet her pants!  She just wet her pants!"

     The exclamation from three drunk ladies as they watched their friend laughing hysterically while
     hobbling off the beach in an apparent need for a bathroom.

"We don't have that here, but I've got some at my house I can sell you."

     The response given to my husband after asking the merchant at the Quinault Pride Seafood Market if
     they had any salmon.  We declined.

"That pirate just threw candy in our car!"

     The excited cries from my children as we inadvertently drove through the Pacific Beach Kelpers
     and Shake Rat Festival Parade.

"Tyler!.....Tyler!......Tyler!......Tyler!......Tyler!....."

     The name shouted every 30 seconds by the family sitting behind me to a boy digging a hole in front of
     me on the sand.  Too bad his name was George.

"Happy Birthday.  You're the love of my life."

     The birthday toast given to me by my son...and then I cried.

"Oh great!  That's just great!"

     The disdain from my daughter at seeing the neighbor girl pull up after being gone all weekend, as we
     were getting in the car to head home.

"No.  It's the beach."

     The celestial answer to our ever present, Ray Liotta inspired question Is this heaven?

"Thank you.  Thank you.  I love you always!"

     The feeling I have knowing that you've taken a moment out of your day to read about a few moments
     from mine.