Off we went with Carter and Harrison in tow. Mom and Dad met us there, plus Leslie and Jordan. We gorged on food (first things first) then headed over to let Carter ride some rides. I was doubtful that he would get on any of those rides for several reasons: 1) he generally takes about 30 minutes to warm up to a new place 2) he would have to talk to the 'carnies' (carnival workers) and he hates talking to strangers 3) he would have to ride by himself because the rest of us were either too tall or too small to ride the poorly constructed kiddie rides.
I could not have been more wrong.
My oldest child, the one who refuses to wave hello to sweet little old ladies at church and who is too fearful to get a stamp on his hand from a librarian at reading time marched right up to every toothless, grimacing, heavily tattooed carnie and bravely asked for a ride and also a high five. Who is his child?!? I'm officially concerned that he may grow up and join the circus.
In my state of shock after the rides, I somehow managed to win 2 live goldfish to take home. Oops. As we left the fair grounds, I asked Carter what he wanted to name the fish. Not surprisingly, he responded, "Nemo."
"But what do you want to name the other one?" I asked.
"Nemo's dad."
"Marlin?"
"No. Nemo's Dad."
Great choice, buddy.
Jeffrey's first question when I got home was what I was going to tell Carter if they died. I thought for a moment and decided that we would just pretend we lost them. Not ready for death conversations yet.
And die, they did. Nemo went first, and then (much like the movie) Nemo's Dad went after him. Carter only asked once where he fish went. I pleaded ignorance ('I'm not sure, buddy, maybe they swam off somewhere...can't find 'em."). It worked. All's well that ends well.
See you next year, Fair and Rodeo.
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