Fun on a stick

It's county fair time! Time to pet sheep, and cows, and goats, and pigs, and try not to think about the fate of the ones who win grand champion. Time for gazillions of calories (and foods that were never meant to be fried or skewered) to be packed into a single acre. Time to pay $5 for a small lemon shake-up. Time to look around and wonder where half of these people came from (nice neck tattoo, buddy). And time to rejoice that your child is finally old enough (because he's always been tall and daring enough) to brave the rides...which we hope were put together in more time than it takes to fry a funnel cake.

(And no, we did not eat this. I remind you,
my hips are the products of chips. And cheese.)

Today, at the Johnson Co. Fair:

Watching the Belted Galloway judging

Evan kept saying, "Wake up, pig!"

Riding the carousel, and telling me he wanted to go on the bumper cars next...which resulted in wails of, "I want to go home!" pretty much after the first 9-year-old imp rammed into us. (Usually, when Evan is scared of something--say, fireworks or large, advancing chickens--he only says, "No, no, no, no, NO!" So he must have been truly terrified to blurt out a full sentence that would leave absolutely no questions about what he wanted.) I drove into a corner and stayed there, hoping everyone else would think we'd forfeited, but there's no dropping out in bumper cars, especially when all the drivers are under 10. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

Feeling much better on a ride where all the other cars were bolted down.

Another ride Evan *thought* he'd like. Not so much, especially since he was riding backwards. I'd say he hated this more than the bumper cars, but I couldn't quite make out what he was screaming, poor thing. But as soon as I unbuckled him, the tears dried up and he pointed to the little rollercoaster a few yards away. Um, no.

Evan won this inflatable guitar thanks to his mad skills in choosing a floating duck. Could've been worse...I saw a lot of very annoyed moms carrying goldfish. I forsee a lot of extra toilet flushes in Johnson County in the coming weeks.

Favorite ride of the afternoon--but then, that shouldn't have been a surprise.











Now, on to the state fair, where I plan to indulge in a certain veggie that always benefits from a fryer...

The sour, the crispy, the noble...I give you the fried pickle. Ranch dressing required.