It's comin' on Fall here in the mountains of North Carolina. That means two things: the Black Bears are back on the field at Pisgah Stadium, and the County Fair is coming to town!
That's how we spent this beautiful, 73 degree evening in Indian Summer We took the boys for their third-annual visit to the midway. They've been so excited all day. It took less than an hour for us to have all the fun we wanted to, and as we walked around, I kept thinking to myself how I can really track Jones's development through our visits to the fair. By way of review ...
The first year, at almost 3, he pitched such an explosive fit when we told him it was time to leave that I honestly thought I might just leave him there behind the Porta-Johns and give him over to a life on the road. Any kid with that kind of lung capacity would have to make a great carnival barker. Making the evening all the more ... memorable? ... was the fact that this fit was being pitched as we tried to haul his melting-down derriere up a hill so steep it felt straight up and down. My calves are still on fire, as are my nerves.
The next year, at nearly 4, he didn't pitch any fits when it was time to leave. He DID, however, scream for MOST of one of the rides. He started out fine on it; the trouble started a few seconds after the ride did. We later realized what freaked him out was the - VERY loud, VERY obnoxious - horns being honked by kids who had no clue what the buttons they pressed were doing to my baby boy.
Now that he's less than two months from turning five (can you even believe that?), he didn't pitch ANY fits, coming or going; he was as polite a child as I have ever seen, and when those reprobate kids started honking those confounded horns, he covered his ears and dealt with it like a boy who's about to start Preschool should. Honestly? I have never been so proud. So, so, so, so very proud. This reminder of his growth was even sweeter after a week that started out sorta sucky. So our evening was more than "fair." It was FANTASTIC.
It was made all the more awesome by Jeremy's attempts to win the boys something stuffed playing darts. Never in nine million years would I have pegged Jeremy as the type of person to plunk down $20 to win his boys some toys we could probably buy for five, but after going 14 for 15, Jeremy ensured his boys came home with a stuffed puppy and a light-up sword a piece. I'm pretty sure this is one of the major ways daddies win hero status.
On the way home, we shared a bag of pink and blue Cotton Candy, which the boys called "Cloud Candy" on account of my saying I felt like I was eating a cloud. I have a feeling that's what it'll be called for as long as we're attending the Haywood County Fair, and that's just fine by me.
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