Just To Be Fair.....

Andrew and Abbey were outside the fairgrounds.  It's March here, but the wheel stays up all year.

 You have to understand that growing up in Dallas, my idea of a state fair is totally warped.  We would get a "Fair Day" from school, and most employers would also give employees a day off just to go to the fair.  There are 300,000 square feet of car show alone.  Football games, tons of shows and stages and the food.  Ahh the food.  From almost anywhere in town you can see the Ferris wheel. The State Fair of Texas Ferris wheel is 212 ft high.  I recognize it's not fair to judge.  Coming from a state where the very name is often used as an adjective, it's really hard not to.  I even noticed the "Texas" adjective at the AZ fair!

not helping me with my homesick issues.

Any who, today we went to the fair.  Our good friend Jarrod and his band, Phoenixburn where playing.  Good friends and all the fried food we can afford, why not.  We started out our fried food extravaganza with the obligatory corn dog.  It was not a Fletchers, but the best we could find.  As we were eating we were greeted by a random stuffed bird.  Maybe, not sure, a mascot for the fair?  He popped on the stage and asked if anyone wanted to do the chicken dance.  Andrew, my child who will do absolutely anything, jumped on stage. 

We left the chicken dance stage and headed over to hear Jarrod and the band play their set.  Everyone say cheese!

Don't worry Jarrod, this is her response to everything.

Right about the time the concert was over, Andrew's stomach was a little queasy.  We knew, being professional fair experts, this was a natural reaction to the grease intake.  The fact is, no one leaves the fair until someone vomits.  So off we went for more fair fun.  We decided to do what anyone with a queasy kid does, take them up on the skyride.  We exchanged all the cash we had, for 40 tickets.  Wow, the irony of "fair" was not lost on me.

I HATE heights.  I have a serious problem.  The thought of dangling with my child 100 feet in the air, is awful.

First of all, I almost insisted on stopping by a Wal-Mart after noticing my husbands choice in BLACK old man socks?!  Seriously, dude, welcome to the year 2010.  The above picture is classic in so many ways.  We've all been there when our old man is pointing out irrelevant and obvious sightings to the "oh-so-over-this" child.  Not to mention the butt scratch by my first born.  There they are, my boys.  Weems 1.0 and Weems 2.0.

Once we got our land legs back, we had a handful of tickets left.  Not enough for a decent ride, we decided to blow the rest on impossible games.  Andrew chose some sort of machine gun game, always appropriate for the fair.  Abbey actually won a quarter toss.  She got the perfect size stuffed animal.

Overall, a success.  Sick tummies and moneyless wallets, time to go.  Enjoy some parting shots.