Dad, can we get an Iron Man toy? So I can pretend Iron Man is kissing LEGO Friends.
We were listening to the radio at supper time the other day and after a news story about some relatively complex medical story, the conversation in our house went (briefly) something like this…
Radio: …and so, just to add some clarification, let me say that…
Claire (surprised): WHAT!? Claire on vacation?
Karin: He said “clarification” not “Claire on vacation.”
Claire (completely ignoring her parents): How did they know about my vacation!? (then, muttering and laughing to herself in disbelief) They said me on vacation.
No. Not really.
Instead, about that moment, I decided to plan another sorta daddy day, and so — booking a single, impromptu mid-week day off work — invited grandma and grandpa up for a family day at the local summer fair. Thus, yesterday we slathered on the sunscreen, held our noses as we paid the crazy, gouging ticket prices, and enjoyed five hours of midway fun, riding the rides, playing some games, eating lots of junk — including cotton candy and pizza — and giving Claire the glorious experience only available to a (nearly) four-year old with no working memory of such a previous experience who is just, by the puffiness of her hair, tall enough to ride the big kid rides and experience the raw whipping and whirling of so many rickety carnival amusements. It was awesome. And we took lots of video and pictures.