That would be the smart thing to do. But it's not what we did today.
When we got up this morning, I had to hurry the kids faster than normal to get them out the door - we had a parade to go to! I kept saying "If you want to go to the parade, we have to brush teeth/fix hair/get dressed/find shoes/for-the-love-of-all-things-holy-you-have-to-wear-panties-or-pants-Ainsley ('tis a phase she's going through)/get snacks/fill up water bottles/get extra diapers for Gray."
Hannah said "Yeah, so we can get some candy!" Ainsley said "And see the DONKEYS!!!" So we got going and got there on time. Then we sat there in the hot sun while we waited for the parade to start. It was forty-five minutes late.
But there were donkeys. (Mules really, but I won't tell if you won't.)
And candy. And so much more. Go here to read about everything else in the parade.
After the parade, we headed to the fair to watch the gymkhana. We wanted to see little kids riding big horses.
These little boys were in the stands beside us. They told me that they were "going to be in the stick horse competitions. But we're going to get so muddy. Seriously. We're not even kidding. We won't be able to stop it." Inevitability can suck, can't it?
I didn't get a picture of Grayson looking adoringly at them. And then my five-year-old broke out of her shyness and offered them some of her parade candy. Bad boys have a strange attraction. Little boys want to be them, little girls want to share their candy with them.
We were going to hit the gymkhana and then go home, but Daddy called and asked us to stay for another four hours so that he could come have dinner with us.
I agreed. Because I wasn't thinking.
So we stayed and played.
And made friends - if only for an hour.
And watched (really bad) puppet shows. The man wasn't even trying to hide the fact that it was his own voice. Ainsley didn't care because it was a talking DOG, but Hannah found it 'pretty lame' which I found pretty funny because just six months ago it would have been a talking dog for her also. Grayson just clapped.
Then there was karaoke. You couldn't set this one up any better, down to his socks.
He wasn't that good, but he was brave and loud. That counts for something.
We talked to the sheep.
Mother turned into a crusty adult and told some kids with no parents around to quit poking the turkeys in the small pens with sticks.
We kept track of the day's activities.
"Saw sheep? Check. Saw man singing? Check. Jumped in jump house? Check. Mother, I haven't been able to check 'eat ice cream' off my list yet. We'd better do that soon." Check.
And went back for more karaoke. This little kid who still had a high voice was singing Kenny Chesney. He rocked the house.
And Grayson clapped.
Another man sang several Johnny Cash songs, including a few slow ones that I've never heard before that had Ainsley swaying around like she was listening to a lullaby.
We read - and read - and read.
It was too hot to leave the tents for very long. We visited all of the exhibits in the air-conditioned buildings. I even attempted the vendor building but skedaddled out of there after just one aisle. (That was partly because wrangling three kids - Gray was scorning the backpack by then - through tables filled with just-at-their-height goodies was daunting and partly because of the 'Save Morality!!!' table with the 'There never were dinosaurs, it's all a plot by the ATHEISTS!' table that I could see around the corner on the next aisle. Explain that one to Hannah? No thank-you. Not today.)
Finally, Daddy came, we ate dinner, and came home. A bit anti-climatic, no?
So here we are.