Our town has a carnival that comes this time every year.
It is a week long extravaganza hosted by the fire department, with a firework conclusion. And really, how do you refuse that? Knowing that some portion of the vast amount of money you just bled into the summer night goes to help support the neighbors that protect you. How do you not to drop an extra $5 into the boot at the hot dog stand?
(I may or may not be a little biased on this one.)
So we marched into the sweltering heat to meet with the family of one of Gracie's besties, and bought the all-you-can-ride wrist band. Grace rode with abandon: carousel, train, dragon roller coaster, tilt-a-whirl.
Clare watched with eager eyes, but didn't get to join in on the fun. Until we got to the ferris wheel.
Me go? Mine Mama? Mine, me?
And we went. She and I tucked neatly into a capsule.
It was the beginning of the end.
Now she knew she was allowed to go to, and so she went on her first carnival ride with Grace.
Quickly followed by a ride all by herself.
I don't think I've seen her that happy in quite awhile.
Well, except for when I make popcorn.