My husband and I were able to take our oldest child on a “date” to the local fair this evening.
Let me start out by saying that I am acutely aware that fairs are NOT frugal (we paid $21 JUST TO RIDE THREE RIDES), nor healthy, nor eco-friendly. Sometimes, I simply do not care. There are few times in our lives where we can relive childhood again, and few things can accomplish that better than a county fair–the buzzing games, the eerily menacing, yet enticing, callers beckoning you into a funhouse or “freak” show, the smells, the cotton candy and funnel cakes, the spinning rides, the flashing lights, and countless colorful balloons (though I admit carnies are their own breed, I think).
I’m pretty sure I was more excited than my son, I’m not going to lie. My hubby chuckled about the fact that I was pure giddiness entering the gates. It’s almost too much to take in–wondering what rides you will try, what carnival fare you will savor, anxious to see the animals on display, and there are dozens of games to try (lose). It’s an escape from the adult world of bills and debt, monotony, to-do lists, etc.
However, after a while, the smells become stale. The crowd becomes obnoxious. You notice the carnies start to growl and snarl even more. The sweets become cloying, the rides dizzying. And you head home–in some way grateful to leave because there’s a reason we’re no longer children, but happy to know that next year, for a few brief hours, you can become a kid again.