Learning To Embrace The Fair

Dear Laney,

I remember when I took you to the Western Montana Fair, and you looked like this:

The Fair itself hasn't changed much. It's still overpriced and tacky and full of delicious bad decisions just waiting to happen. 

But you have changed A TON. This year, you were tall enough to ride everything without a grown-up. I bought you the all-you-can-ride wristband and picked up your friend Amya, and you two rode everything there was to ride. Y'all rode the Tilt-A-Whirl ten times, six of them in a row. You'd just get off the ride, and circle back to get in line again. As my friend Jess said: "Barftastic!"

The last time I went to the fair with you two, we were on a preschool field trip and y'all had to hang on to a rope so you wouldn't get separated from your group. This year, y'all ran all over Creation and I could barely keep up. But you still help hands, which warmed my heart. 

There were a few times when y'all just squuuueaked by the minimum height requirement. 

This is not a proportional response to this ride:

Here it looks like the carnival worker (Is "carney" derogatory? Not sure.) is lecturing you two, but in reality, you told him not to close the door to the Spider until he addressed your safety concerns. 

I hope you two grow up and open some kind of business together because at the age of six y'all already don't take no crap from nobody. 

If you're wondering where Hagen was, he was back at Grandma Sue's, playing with LEGO blocks and eating cheese sandwiches and probably watching "Cupcake Wars" or "Dancing With the Stars." Like most reasonable people, and everyone over the age of 80, Hagen doesn't enjoy heat or crowds or walking or lines or loud noises, so we decided to let him forego the fair this year. 

We're inching closer to the year your dad and I can sit in the shade with a funnel cake next to a hokey 4H exhibit and y'all can do it without us. 

Love,

Mom