10/2/10

Today we took the kids to the Deerfield Fair.

I was happy to note it was about an hour drive, so I quickly packed a knitting bag, whilst running around packing all the other requirements for a day out-and-about with two small children - carefully considering all contingency and emergency situations. You know I never go anywhere without my CPR mask.

As we hit the highway, I pulled out my knitting (and should not have been surprised) to discover I only had 1 needle. Now, I'm no SouleMama but even I know knitting requires two needles.

Not that it matters much because I spent the entire hour enjoying the lovely foliage contorting myself awkwardly to feed crackers to a demanding little backseat gestapo.

There was lots of fun to be had at the fair, but it is rather eye opening to go to something like this now that I'm the mama.

The cute farm animals suddenly seem like pathogen harboring beasts with dangerously sharp teeth and absolutely no self control.

Goats don't have venom, do they?

The farm machines and tractors seem deadly in a thousand gruesome ways.



That thing couldn't possibly tip over, right? Or just start rolling on its own...



The thought, just the MERE THOUGHT, of putting my son on one of the kiddie rides was enough to make my palms sweat. He could be abducted by a crazy carnie, there could be flesh-eating virus on the seat, he could fall out, or freak out, or... or ... or...

Lucky for me, B is terrified of EVERYTHING and wanted nothing to do with the rides. (Whew).

Despite my crazy worrying, we did manage to share an embarrassingly huge basket of "beets and sweets" (sweet potato and beet ribbon fries) YUM. (Apparently my anxiety draws the line at fried food).

And then the boys ate my ice cream cone. hmm.

There was a brief, oh-so-brief, period of napping on the way home. Why doesn't a day at the fair exhaust them the way it exhausts me?