For my money, it doesn’t get much better than corn dogs, funnel cakes, and sitting smug faced on a set of gigantic bleachers constructed out of rail road ties while I secretly stare at and subsequently judge everyone who walks by.
This was my fourteenth consecutive year in proud attendance at the St. Charles County Fair, and, more importantly, second year sober.
Of course the two years of sobriety have been forced upon me by pregnancy – a minor detail that didn’t seem to deter many other fair goers.
One minute I was in my kitchen talking with my friend Kelly about the proper time to introduce solid foods to ensure our babies continue to receive the perfect balance of nutrients conducive to maximum brain development and growth in their first year of life, and the next I’m sitting on the bleachers of the demo derby where I see at least a half dozen women trying to balance a stack of five beer cups (with a full one on top) in their baby holdin’ arm while their baby tries to grab at the lit cigarette in their other.
Of course the BEST part about being pregnant is that I get to be the sober driver.
As I was taking this picture right before we left I was thinking, “One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight. Eight heart wrenching calls to loved ones if something goes wrong behind the wheel.” Ah Ah Ah! *laughs like The Count*
Someone was rhythmically dropping air bombs every three minutes in the back (Paul) while the rest of the car was screeching like hyenas (Kelly).
Actually, the screeching wasn’t that bad because at a certain point it hit a decibel only audible to certain breeds of canines.
But at least I got my sweet maternity pics out of the way.