It’s been a busy week—and it’s not over yet! But today Chip and I had a special treat: caramel apples. I hadn’t had one of those since college days, when the East Quad cafeteria would serve them for dessert on Halloween. We did ours the cheater way, with those round “sheets” of caramel that you wrap ’round the apple and then stick in the oven for five minutes; but oh, they were so good! Messy, stick-in-your-teeth chewy, but really, really wonderful. I had just gotten going on mine when the phone rang. I expected it to be one of those telemarketer hang-up calls, or maybe a recording—whatever, I assumed I’d be able to just hang up without saying anything.
It was Surekha, my dear friend from up in Ann Arbor. We hadn’t chatted on the phone in a while, so I was surprised to hear her voice on the line. And then I started to laugh, because there I was with my mouth full of caramel apple, and I could barely give her a proper greeting, let alone converse for several minutes! So then I was struck funny, and as she inquired whether she should call back in five minutes, I giggled and chewed and told her it was fine but that she’d have to be the one to do all the talking for a bit. (I wasn’t so rude as to munch away on my apple during the whole call, though, mind you.)
The other night we took the boys to the North Florida State Fair. Kind of like the caramel apples, a fair was a delight I hadn’t experienced in a good long time. I confess to being more accustomed to fairs where the emphasis is on the garden produce and livestock shows and judging and that sort of thing. This fair was really all about the midway—rides galore, tons of food stands, and weird “shows” (e.g., “Come See the 29-Inch Woman! The Two-Headed Raccoon! The Nuclear Beetle, as big as your head!”). Ugh.
When we first walked into the fair and I saw all the flashing lights, whirling rides, and people, I started to feel like I was having a panic attack. Once I was able to look at (and even pet and feed some of) the animals, I calmed down.
We got to see the West Texas Snake Show, and Urban even got to assist the handler as he enticed one of the rattlesnakes to strike at and pop a large balloon (he was perfectly safe the whole time). The Wild Animals of North America show was neat, too, though the emcee laid it on a bit thick about how important it is that, “Boys and Girls, we must take care of the animals!” Brian agreed with me that there was something slightly insincere about the way he spoke—a little too condescending, a little too sappy. But the animals they showed did look very healthy…..those timber wolves sure can jump!
The boys got to go on some of the rides. Levi was too small for most of them, but he did ride the double-decker carousel and the little train. Right before we left, we all went on the ferris wheel. We were up SO high, and Urban asked, “Are we at the top?” Brian replied, “No, not yet.” I said, “We’re not at the top?” That’s when I started to panic! I am not a big fan of heights; and though Brian’s scared of heights himself and even blacked out at the top of Notre Dame Cathedral once, he seemed to handle this ferris wheel thing just fine.
I really wanted to give in to hysterics—it reminded me of how it feels to be in transition during labor—but he reminded me that if I freaked out, the kids would get upset, so I forced myself to breathe slowly and say “Hail Mary”s until it was over. Remarkably, we all survived! “I’m never doing that again,” was Urban’s comment when it was all over. I’m inclined to agree!
