OldDogNewTits












Fair Weekend. It’s always a fun time at our school. 2014 marks my ninth consecutive year working, playing, binge eating, drinking, and dancing at this fun-filled three days spent with some of my favorite people. It’s also my last year there as a card-carrying parent. My girl will be changing schools next year. I didn’t expect to cry at the event over this fact.

Ha.

Last night, I looked like I was channeling Alice Cooper peeling onions while watching a Beaches/Old-Yeller/Dead-Poet’s-Society movie marathon littered with sappy Hallmark commercials. Pathetic. (Thanks, Melissa, for starting the water works.) I’m going to miss it. A lot. And I will certainly be back next year, but just as someone who lives in the neighborhood coming to support my children’s alma mater. Yes, Holly & Leslie, I will still work the beer booth. Yes, Jennifer, I will work the drinks booth. Yes, Karla, I will work the snack booth. Just let me know when I’m needed.

For now, in the interest of preventing another ugly display of emotion, I’m just going to keep it light here with a few observations and pictures from one of my favorite weekends of the year.

Things I’m not proud proud I ate:

  • fried cheese
  • fried pickles
  • fried shrimp
  • fried oysters
  • fried Oreos

Beers consumed – 5 (Not bad for three days. Thanks, Lauren.)

Mixed drinks – 2 … or was it 3? (Thanks, Melissa, Mignon and Leslie.)

Activities that kept me busy – selling crab balls with Ashley, slinging basketballs with Vanessa, helping kids in and out of sweaty sofa-cushion-unitards for the velcro wall with Joseph, peddling beer with Kirk, gambling/losing money with Tim, singing Neil Diamond like no one was watching with The Rockenbraughs, parenting electronically with Dave, overeating with everyone in attendance and other assorted acts of PG (and sometimes PG-13) rated tomfoolery.

Favorite text of the weekend – “Sorry, Mom. I accidentally won three goldfish.” – Vivien

Number of live goldfish won by daughter – 5 (Her personal best was 16 in 2009.)

Number of live goldfish won by daughter that actually made it home – 3

Number of children being raised by the two moms in charge of the event – TWELVE! (How can they manage this huge, time-consuming job when I can’t even get my legs shaved? – Thanks, Denise and Jennifer.)

Number of priests I saw perform with the live band – 2 (Which is two more than I’ve EVER seen before)

Number of times my daughter asked for money – 7? 8? I honestly lost count.

Number of times my son asked for money – 1 (He’s my favorite.)

Number of times my parents gave my kids money, brought someone elsewhere to a simultaneous ballgame, purchased someone food, shuttled someone to the fair or back, etc. – I actually have no idea. Thanks, Mom and Dad. Not sure what we’d do without you.

Number of times I should’ve been fired from my volunteer position for giving too much change – 3 (I think. It’s not like I can really count.) (Thanks, Kirk, for spotting me from then on.)

Biggest problem I’m having today – I can’t stop peeing. But I did have one beer, two Diet Cokes and about 17 bottles of water yesterday so I guess it’s not really a mystery.

Thanks, SCS, for a great nine years of fair weekends.

We’ll be back next year. As alumni!

(Please let us in.)

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I know what you’re thinking. “Hey, Michele … WHERE’S DEAN?!!?” Remember, he just turned 15 last Thursday. And can you show me one fifteen-year-old boy who wants to let his mom take his picture? Nope? I didn’t think so.

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Did I ever write about any of the other fairs? Well, of COURSE I did. Click the following links to read about past festivities in 2011 and 2012.

(What the heck was I doing in 2013, by the way?) 

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Today has been deemed the first-ever “Romantic Monday” by a man named Edward Hotspur. The rules are simple so I thought I’d give it a try. Write a blog post that celebrates Romance. Well (ahem) okay. I’ll have a go at it.

* * * * * * * * * *

I’ve had a very exhausting weekend. A three-day fundraiser at my kids’ school to be exact. It’s always a lot of fun but it wears you out to your last thread. The kids are sorry to see it end. The parents are, too. Or at least we pretend to be as we secretly relish the idea of detoxing from all the fried food and washing the silly string and confetti out of our children’s knotted hair (as well as the rugs, carpets, sofas, floor mats, etc.). It was a great weekend for three of my four family members. Sadly, for the first time in seven years, Dave was able to attend none of it. And he was pretty broken up about it. I think even more so than he expected to be. So he asked for lots of pictures and updates throughout the weekend.

We missed you, Dave. Here’s a list of the times I wish you were there the most:

10. When Vivien sang dressed as an angel with the school choir in the auditorium.

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9. When I needed someone to share my fried pickles with so I wouldn’t eat the whole stupid basket.

8. When Dean took a turn in the dunking booth and plunged into the cholera-infested waters no less than 50 times.

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7. When I knocked him in on my SECOND try. (I’ve never thrown so well in my life.)

6. When I worked in the beer booth with a bunch of fellow crazy people.

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5. When our friends, The Rockenbraughs, sang one of your favorites, Cruel to be Kind.

4. When Viv kept winning oversized stuffed animals and I had to be the heavy to make her STOP!

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3. When I handed Dean $20 for his time spent in the dunk tank.

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2. When Ashley and I joked about hawking crab balls for two hours. (Yes, I said crab balls.)

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1. When our lovable neighbor sang Under Pressure dressed as Pee Wee Herman.

Okay, Dave. The dates are already set for 2013.

We really hope you can make it next time.

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(1) You should strip completely before entering your home at night. Shaking out your hair does not rid you of the deeply-implanted results of multiple confetti-eggings. I think I’ll be finding white bits of paper around the house for months. I’m hoping the cat will learn to eat them.

(2) You should never … ever … eat three forms of fried foods in the same day. You will think it’s a great idea at the time. You will wonder why you hadn’t thought of it sooner and will try to encourage others to join you in this whole new decadent, artery-clogging world. You will laugh at the future. But don’t do it. I can’t explain what it does to your body … all through the night … and you really don’t want me to try.

(3) Leave your checkbooks at home! You should still plan to bring lots of cash for all of the crap your kids simply must buy/eat/take a chance on. But having your checkbook makes entirely too much money available to you when your brain and good judgment are clouded by excessive quantities of grease and sugar.

(4) Wait until your child is on his or her own to hand them their spending money. I like to keep the amounts small to ensure that they’ll actually check in with me (often!) throughout the weekend for more. Not everyone operates this way. And you don’t want to be caught handing your kid $5 when their buddy is being handed $50. It creates a bit of an ugly scene … and your child will not wind up displaying his or her best side.

(5) Silly string should never be sprayed into a little girl’s hair. My husband and I took shifts working on its removal process when we got home. And the bits didn’t break up small enough to go down the tub drain so then IT needed to be cleaned. And it was approaching midnight.

(6) Do not think your child really wants you to join her and her friends in the Rock Band booth. She doesn’t. You’re “embarrassing” her. Decide you don’t care and do it anyway. Sing as loud as you can. Own the experience. How many of these do you really get these days, right? Oh, and realize now that you’re most likely going to be singing “Don’t Stop Believin.” (Does that song have a G at the end or not? I’m not sure and I refuse to google something so ridiculous.)

(7) You can’t buy too much glitter for your child’s costume for the fair performance. Every kid wants a ton and you will find yourself putting it on ALL of their faces … and then your own. And then later your daughter will decide her dad needs some, too. Which he will agree to, thinking everyone will understand that it’s because of his daughter’s role in the play. But they won’t and he will just feel foolish and be trapped under a layer of glitter the whole day. After he’s sufficiently frustrated with the fact that it’s all anyone is talking to him about, call him ‘Pretty.’ Get others to do it, too.

(8) If you want to take on the hamster ball, do it early in the fair when you still meet the weight requirements. You will be fatter by the end of the weekend and thus potentially ineligible.

(9) Limit your kid to one goldfish win or you will find yourself in our predicament of last year … with SIXTEEN! We only had two bowls at home so we split them up evenly and decided to let nature take its course. After fifteen fish funerals in five days, we admitted that it was probably not the best idea for the fish or my kids. Oh, and yes, ONE made it almost a year. He died as soon as we put a second fish (that we received as a party favor!) in the bowl with him. And then the party favor fish died, too. We decided it was some kind of fish murder/suicide pact and moved on with our lives.

(10) If you’re writing a blog about your boobs … and boobs in general, expect that they will be a pretty consistent topic (or should I say topics?) of many of the conversations that you have at your kids’ fair. Which, of course, makes for an interesting weekend.

Hope your weekend was as fun-filled, fattening and completely exhausting as mine. Now … let the detoxification begin.

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et cetera
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