The Almost Great Minnesota Get Together

I had promised the children I would take them to the county fair yesterday. Rudy's vocabulary is pretty limited so her response involved lots of "bananas!" and "burps!", but Baba was pretty pumped. Then I broke my baby toe Wednesday night (if it swells any larger, its going to beat my big toe in the biggest toe on my foot contest).

I was on pins and needles all thursday morning, hoping that Baba had forgotten about the fair. I had asked him a couple times what he wanted to do today. If he wasn't going to bring it up, I certainly wasn't going to volunteer that it was supposed to be fair day. I was perfectly content to eat tylenol while sitting on the couch with my foot elevated (and my children are so patient and understanding when Mom is injured). I asked him a couple times what he wanted to do today. I got the usual: watch Star Wars, play Star Wars on the Wii, have lightsaber battles, eat, etc. I thought I was home free. Then, right after lunch, he remember. He promised to be good until Christmas, so I buddy-wrapped, slide my poor foot into my biggest tennis shoes and off we hubbled (or, I hobbled, Rudy ran, and Baba bounced with glee).

The kids loved the animal barns. They didn't care that it stink or was 9,001 degrees. They would have happily oohed and aahed at cows and horses and pigs and goats all day. We watched barrel races, cow judging (which, is the only time that my children have sat still for more than 2 minutes consecutively), sheep judging, and a karate demenstration, during which, Baba turns to me and says, "Mom, can I take gymnastics and dance and karate. Dance and gymnastics because I want to and karate in case someone makes fun of me for taking gymnastics and dance."

Baba also got to make a super cool bookmark at the library booth. He got to use different color stamps to make finger prints on a piece of card stock. He was making TIE fighters (of course). The librarian says in her voice reserved for dealing with dumb children, "Oh! That looks like a butterfly. Its so pretty." Baba says in his most condisending voice, "Its a TIE fighter. Pew! Pew! Pew! TIE fighter." I don't think he took my "you need to be respectful to adults even if they aren't respectful to you" lecture too seriously since I was giggling through it.

After a root beer, some salt water taffy, a hot dog, some french fries, and a juice box, it was time to go. We made it home relativly in one piece and neither of my children sampled any of the prize winning produce (not for lack of trying and me screaming "Babaua Harold put that zucchini down. NOW!"). They had a great time and I had a great drink when we got home. It was a succesful day.