Make fun all you want, but . . .

I'm really disappointed that my daughter doesn't mispronounce the word "festival" anymore. Talking about festibuls all summer long seemed . . . more fun somehow.  She does still mispronounce a few things and we don't always correct her because . . . well, then we couldn't make fun of her behind her back. For example, when P is mowing the lawn, A will ask me if her dad is "mawn lowing."  With our mawn lower.  As in, "Daddy, Mommy almost backed over the mawn lower when she was pulling out of the garage this morning!" (Really, though, he shouldn't put it so close to my car.) She also still pronounces "mustache" like "moostache" so we still have that as well.

Anyway, we did kick off our summer festival season last weekend - we attended two. P stayed home because he's no fun. On Saturday we went to a local Memorial Day fair. She insisted on riding a few rides and, since she was too short to ride by herself, I had to climb aboard with her. Talk about taking one for the team. I tried to talk her out of it. "Do you really need to ride the Ferris wheel?  We just got back from Disney World!"

"There is no Ferris wheel at Disney World," she responded, and marched up to the line. She had me on a technicality.

We also took the opportunity to tuck into our first funnel cake of the season.  I showed some restraint and only took a few bites. Something about seeing the dough bobbing around in the grease . . . I dunno. I'd be more inclined to eat funnel cakes if I hadn't seen that. Ignorance was bliss. We listened to some music, did some of the kids' activities, and even won a can koozy and free tickets to the county fair in August. See, one festibul begets another!  We would have stayed longer except that it started to rain.

On Sunday, the kid and I attended a fine art fair after church. It was incredibly windy. I felt so sorry for the artists - particularly the ones who specialize in glass. I heard one artist say that she'd rather have rain than the crazy winds. I didn't have a lot of money to spend on art, but I did pick up a photo of a sea turtle.

On Monday, I went to yoga bright and early. The plan after that was for me and my daughter to go to the garden shop and then spend the afternoon planting annuals. We did go to the garden shop as planned. She carefully selected some petunias for the front yard. When we got home, I set her up with all the tools she needed to plant them. And then one of her BFFs showed up and she dropped me like a hot potato. So, I spent the rest of the afternoon gardening solo. I have a feeling this is a preview of the teen years. Looking on the bright side, I got a lot more done without Chatty McChattington at my side.


Anonymous said…
she is so precious! what gorgeous curls! thanks for sharing!
Beth said…
How is it that, at seven, our babies look so dang grown-up?

Jason used to call festivals 'vegetables.' And a lawn mower was (and sometimes still is) a mow-lawner.

And the language stuff means that they are growing up, doesn't it? Can't we slow it down a bit?

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