The best laid plans

On the skyway

We got to the State Fair bright and early yesterday morning (after a two-hour drive). We go every year, so we've got it down to a science. We know where we can park for free. We know which attractions to hit first, before they become too crowded. Everything was going as planned until . . . I nearly puked on the midway. P and I were standing behind a giant pig, which had a slide inside. We were waiting for our daughter to slide out of the pig's butt, when all of a sudden I felt faint. I'll spare you all of the details, but my stomach was churning and I was sweating in a way that was not at all ladylike. I spent a fair amount of time in the ladies' room trying to decide if I was going to be able to keep the baked potato I had eaten or not. And that was the kicker - I hadn't even eaten any junk yet! I had eaten a $5.50 baked potato (I think that's, what, a 500% mark-up?) and a pinch of cotton candy. No deep-fried Oreo's, no food-on-a-stick, nothin'.

We found a spot where I could sit in the shade until I felt better. We were right next to a cantina of some sort, where a belly dancing act had just taken the stage. P kept A occupied while I kept up the sweaty nausea routine for a bit longer. The kid decided she was thirsty.

"What do you want to drink?" P asked her.

She pointed to a banner that was hanging on the wall of the cantina. "I want that," she announced, pointing to a picture of a dark bottle with red writing on it.

"That's a Bud Select," her father informed her.

"I want a Bud Select, she confirmed.

"I'll get you a lemonade."

At the top of her lungs: "I WANT A BUD SELECT!"

I'm sure no one heard her because, you know, only a few hundred thousand people attend the fair every year.

Eventually I did recover enough to continue strolling around the park for a while before we headed out. I still don't know what went wrong, but I'm guessing it was just the heat. Maybe I wasn't hydrated enough - who knows. If anyone should have been sick, it should have been my child. Every time I turned around her father was letting her eat cheese curds or ice cream.

Despite my bout with nausea, we still managed to do everything we set out to do. The kid got to ride some of the kiddie rides on the midway (she is precisely 36 inches tall now, which is the minimum height for almost every ride). She saw animals, she petted a cow, she collected some freebies, and she got to slide out of a pig's hinder. It's all good.

After we left the fair, we headed to the home of some friends from the rescue. They invite us to stay at their house every year when we go to the fair. And we get darned good service there, I have to say. Later in the evening, we met more of our rescue friends for a nice dinner at Buca di Beppo. My stomach agreed to let me have some manicotti and some garlic mashed potatoes. A circled the table several times, trying out her "Guess what? Chickenbutt!" joke on everyone who was willing to play along.

Now that we're home and unpacked, I need to starting packing for a trip "up north." We're leaving early Wednesday morning to spend some time at a friend's cabin. It's a long drive, but I'm looking forward to floating on my back in the lake and doing a whole lot of nothing.

Our little family, out to dinner. Ignore the wine glass in the foreground. I can't imagine who would have been indulging in such things, particularly with a small child present!