I'm happy to say that ours was pretty good. Our regular workout on Saturday AM, followed by dinner at friends; then a lovely Sunday with perfect weather for a fall fair. It took a bit of convincing to get our 8 year old teenager out of the house, but I told him, "We are going to have some family fun time and you ARE going to enjoy yourself." For some reason, Ian seemed to find that quite hilarious. I think what sealed the deal was that baby cousin J would be meeting us there, and she's always a huge draw for the kids.
First stop at the fair - the Dora and Diego meet and greet. Unfortunately we got there just as they closed the gates to actually shake their hands. But the girlie had fallen asleep in the car, so was groggily satisfied with the waves they gave her. Especially once she saw the pony rides.
The ponies were adorable. And lo and behold, taking place just adjacent for the boys' viewing pleasure -- pig races. The girlie's turn came up and I seated her comfortably on her little miniature pony. Once settled, I looked around for the keeper of my critical blog equipment (ie. camera). And there he was, his back to me, watching the pig races and hooting encouragingly at the pink little buggers while I was unsuccessfully trying to get his attention.
I called once. No response. I tried a second time with more urgency - nada. The Dad one pony over was watching me with a grin on his face as I tried a third time with a little more volume... and then a fourth. Nothing. The next-door Dad was now chuckling. Finally, as we were quickly in danger of missing a precious photo-op before we started the pony circuit, I pulled out my loudest gutteral hag voice and screamed "IAN!!!!" at the top of my lungs. He looked at me with the most annoyed "WTF" gaze, but it did the trick. A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.
The rest of the afternoon was spent observing award winning pigs, hens, roosters, rabbits, cows, sheep, goats ... and admiring baby chicks, piglets and the like. Then there were craft exhibits, magic shows, wild animal shows...fire-eating buskers, silver Elvis statues who could move. They had everything. We were trying to convince the boy that we should stay for the Monster Truck finale ... but it was getting close to dinner and he had homework to do. And the kids were tired. So we headed back to the car.
Unfortunately, we had to pass by the merry-go-round on the way to the exit.
"Hey, I want to go on the merry-go-round!!!! I want to go now!!!" from the thrasher-formerly- known-as-the-girlie in her stroller.
Ugh.Off the Man went to pick up some tickets while the Boy whined about the unfairness of it all. Was this how the lovely day was going to end, in misery?
While trying to placate a writhing, tantrum-ing 3 year old, and making sure the 8 year old wasn't planning to track his father down, I peered across the sea of heads trying to ascertain which among them belonged to my husband. And out of the other corner of my eye, I saw this family, a tall blond fellow, with his wife and cute little blond boy in tow. Something was familiar about him and his boy, but it was the sight of his wife that struck me the most. She was gorgeous, her hair a brilliant shade of dark auburn shining in the late afternoon sunlight. And I said to myself, "I KNOW her!"
I yelled "Kelly!!" And she looked up at me, obviously puzzled because she'd never seen nor heard me before in real life. So this was likely as strange for her, as it was for me. (After all, I don't normally go around yelling at strangers, although I did spare her my gutteral hag version.)
"It's me, Karen" and I went up to her as if I'd known her all of my life.
Because this wasn't just any Kelly. This was the awesome Don Mills Diva. We've been trying to hook up for months now. With our husbands' work schedules being so busy, her starting a new job (and me too, for that matter) it was looking like we might not swing things until even later in the year.
But thanks to serendipity, we'll hopefully have that drink sooner rather than later.
And that was the perfect conclusion to our day at the fair.