The fairest of the fair

Actually, the fairest of the fair was me. When you have no pigment in your skin, you get to be the fairest of wherever you go. I'm the fairest of public restrooms, the grocery store, Target, you name it.

The cutest of the fair, though?  My kid, of course. We had a great time at the state fair over the weekend. When we first got there, I headed for the vendor expo while the kid and her dad hit the children's activity area. She made a bracelet with her name on it, watched a pizza-eating contest, and scored some free Oreos and potato chips. As for me, the only thing I bought at the expo was some jewelry cleaner. The man offered me a free ring cleaning, so I handed him my wedding rings. However, not before I nearly had to wrench my ring finger clean off to liberate those rings from my hand, eventually resorting to the use of my own spit. "Ha ha!" I said. "I must have gained a pound or two since my wedding!"

I also came |this| close to buying the Slushie Magic thing my daughter has been begging for. I stood and watched the demonstration as if in a trance.  The loud-voiced sales guy spoke of magic ice cubes and how you could even put vodka Hawaiian Punch in there if you wanted to! They were only selling the kits in two-packs, though. I decided to pass. Maybe I'll reconsider it for Christmas or something. Or maybe never. It looks messy.

For breakfast on Saturday, I had limited myself to a Slim Fast shake so that I could eat something unholy at the fair. I decided to try deep-fried cookie dough. It was okay. I will probably go for a new experiment next year.  The cookie dough was really the only wacky thing I ate.

We spent a couple hours on the midway where our daughter rode every ride she was tall enough to ride. She's hoping to hit 48 inches by next summer, as it will open up even more puke-inducing fun when she can ride the bigger ones. We bought her a wristband (to the tune of $30) that granted her unlimited rides. It seemed like a decent deal but then again, everything seems pretty reasonable to us now that we've been to DisneyWorld. P kept a running tally to make sure we got our money's worth out of that wristband. I think the kid eventually hit something like 25 attractions, some of them twice. P and I watched her spin on this and that while we clutched our abdomens and made comments about our daughter and her stomach of steel.

Oh, we also paid $2 for her to walk through this thing (below), where she was supposed to learn about internal organs and other part's of a lizard's? dinosaur's? anatomy. You could hear gurgling and farting from the outside. The ride operator informed our child that she would come out the other end, as dino poop.  Needless to say, that is her new nickname.

Later, we checked in at our hotel and went swimming. P and I realized that we had gotten a bit too much sun while we were standing on the midway for so long. We burn while our daughter tans beautifully (even with sunblock).  P asked me why I had not informed him earlier that his face was red. I honestly had not noticed, but I did have sunblock in my bag, which he could have asked for at any time. I have been telling the man for over 20 years now that I am not his mother. Ten bucks says we repeat the same scenario next summer.