It's not Fair!

Every year it comes...like a train out of control...surely leaves you wonderin'...exactly where your ticket goes...scream to the conductor... okay, sorry, I got a little carried away with some Widespread Panic lyrics. You must forgive me, but the song Climb to Safety seems rather appropriate for this particular topic. I mean, the whole thing is out of control. You do wonder where your tickets go. And more often than not you truly find yourself screaming for it all to stop.

I've got lots of friends who live and breathe for this event. They plan months in advance for tickets and particular days and times to attend. There's a lot of foresight that some folks put into the Fair. Me, not so much. I've mentioned before that I don't get along well with lines, much less the unwitting neighbors beside me in them. I can't don't handle crowds well, especially this time of year when people are prone to nagging coughs and icky viruses. However, I know that the Fair is fun. I know this. I know that my kids love the rides and aren't jaded (yet) by crowds and lines. So, we meet in the middle, and go when the end of the whole craziness is near. (I also know that their friends will be all bragging about how great it was and blah blah blah, and that E and S would let me know how we suck for not going.)

This year, we took my Ella and Summit on the very last day. Is it the best for the animals? Not really. The once cute and clumsy baby ducks of the first days are more like teenagers in duck years, so they've figured out the whole reach-for-the-food-and-slide-down-the-slide gag. And, since lots of the farm stock have taken home their prizes, us last-dayers are left with the very sad exotic animal display and the pig races. Fortunately, we get to visit other barnyard animals around the year (see previous post), so this isn't such a disappointment. Really all E and S want to do is ride the rides and eat fair food.

Ohhh, and the rides. They love them so much, and since they're getting bigger, we can just let them hop on together. Occasionally, of course, they want us to accompany them, which I love because it makes me realize they're not so big. It's also a bonus that I can make sure they don't touch anything gross, well touch fewer gross things. I've often wondered why they don't provide fair-goers with surgical gloves or something, but when I see the lovelies working the rides, I realize that bathing isn't really a priority, so the chances of sanitizing the rails and seats are pretty low. Regardless my obsessive compulsive issues with the germs are nearly completely forgotten when I hear the squeals and laughter and see the humongous smiles on my babies' faces. Nothing beats that. Nothing.

Not even the elephant ears, which brings me to the food. Ohhh, the food. L.O.V.E it. How much money spent on food at the Fair could easily afford us dinner at Ruth's Chris. Corn dogs, candy apples, fried mushrooms, sausage and onions, dipped ice cream cones, cotton candy, french fries, fried donuts, deep-fried kool aid (if you're thinking WTF, so was I... I wasn't surprised, however, when my baby brother bought it), lemonade, etc. Holy Biggest Loser, South Carolina edition. The irony of me fearing germs on rides more than the crap ingested into my body is not lost on me. But, you know what, it was goooooooood. Soooooooooo goooooooood.

When we decided that hand-washing showers pressure washing our bodies and consuming large quantities of Pepto Bismal was necessary, we bid our adieu at the good old South Carolina State Fair. My little loves had such a fun time, and we were lucky enough to share the experience with my parents and John Wesley and Ashley. It's nice to know that no matter the place, no matter how dirty the place, we can all laugh (and sometimes wail irrationally, depending on how much sugar is coursing through certain little people's systems) a lot.