We aren't a family who goes to the fair every year. In fact, I am not a huge fan of the fair. Okay, I'm not even sort-of a fan of the fair.
Actually, when I hear the word "fair" I immediately cringe at the thought of all of the germs, and then quickly go wash my hands.
I wasn't thinking we'd go to the fair this year. Jordyn had spent several days there with friends (no, she didn't sleep overnight there -- which is what that last sentence totally sounded like) and she'd spent her money on all the rides that make me want to throw up just watching people ride them. (Not a big fan of rides either, if you didn't catch that.) So, I thought we'd just spend a lazy Sunday at home.
"Hey, we should take the kids to the fair today!" Looking up from my toothbrush, I give Jeremy the "are you really serious because I don't know if I have enough hand sanitizer in my purse" look. But, before I know it, he's talking about horses and cows and ice cream and smoothies... and he's won the kids over.
But, in my quest to "Learn As I Go" through life, I did learn something.
I learned there's just something about the fair....
There's just something about little boys in backwards baseball caps following behind Daddy,
trying to walk around walking through mud puddles.
There's just something about the giggle and smile your son gives you as he tries to chase you.
There's just something about 2-year-olds running between the pens of pigs and ducks, geese and cows, excited to see the animals, but never staying very long at any of the pens to actually see the animals.
There's just something about seeing your caring, mature teenager take the hand of your 5-year-old, who is sensitive to sounds and is not a fan of the very loud rooster "cock-a-doodle-do-ing" and take her away from the noise.
There's just something about the smell of corn dogs and BBQs and tractor grease and manure (I didn't say what the "something" was...)
There's just something about little faces in sunglasses hugging big sisters.
There's just something about paying $5 to play a game where you throw a ball and win a not-so-cute, very poorly sewn-together stuffed animal.
There's just something about the anticipation of a yummy strawberry smoothie as Dad pays
a ridiculous amount of money.
There's just something about eating ice cream, just after polishing off your strawberry smoothie, and not feeling the least bit guilty about it, because -- it's the fair.
There's just something about tired legs and full tummies and sticky hands and sweaty foreheads and dirty fingernails as you head to the car.
There's just something about a place where you can eat a "walking taco," pet a horse, go upside-down on a ride called the "Tornado," and register to win a hot tub.
There's just something about the fair.