Hear that music? The country fair is back!
Snook has a nice big game booth on the Midway this time, where homeschoolers and unschoolers can pitch quarters at a dazzling array of schoolthink dishware to take home, piped out into carnival shape by lips like Harry Potter, Stanley Fish and Clarence Thomas.
This carnival’s barker (Meg) suggests we take the time to smell the kettle corn and cotton candy; don’t race from booth to booth with kids in tow. Enjoy each booth on its own, read the comments too, savor each flavor in turn, don’t make ourselves sick . . .
Thank you, but it’s Eight.
ACK, so eight is great then, I just get excited, apparently I got ahead of myself?
— fixing now, sorry Meg.
(While we’re tidying up fair stuff, I am a mom, so my authorship pronoun would be hers rather than his, although it’s only “fair” to add that you’re not the first to have assumed otherwise. Sometime I should try to figure out why this keeps happening, maybe . . .)
JJ, maybe it has something to do with dyn-o-mite!
Thanks for posting the link. I had forgotten about the fair.
To Not JC, wow, can’t believe that never occurred to me, that could be it! Wonder if all those folks also assume I am African-American then, as well as male? And very tall — well, at least that one is right!
I’m sorry. I got it changed.
JJ, I am forever going to imagine THIS when I think of you.
The bemused expression fits if not the chest measurement or overbite . . .