Being that you're over 36" tall, you experienced a great deal more freedom at the mini-midway this year. Much to your Mother's trepidation and fear ... and much to your Father's delight and pride.
Your knight in shining armor, Uncle D., joined us for lunch and a giant bucket of Sweet Martha's cookies.
On the carousel, you didn't need one of us to stand by your side. I only cried a little, I swear. Of course you chose Marty, an ode to your Madagascar-lovin' days.
You were excited to get down and dirty with all the livestock.
You're not even strapped into this little aquatic machine ... and don't think we didn't see you try to bail out when you were stuck in the corner. Good thing for those attentive carneys. Oh, my heart.
Your bestie E. was a happy surprise for you- you made her Daddy carry you around, and then push you in her stroller. The tiny diva of the fairgrounds.
You made me only cry a little bit, here, too. Just enough so that the tears didn't fall onto my actual face.
Here's the annual-in-the-parking-lot pose before boarding the shuttle. Your legs are like, 3 feet longer than they were last August. The rest is the same- hair, glasses, hoodie, sneakers, NaNa, flair.
We burned up 10 tickets on the Ferris wheel. I would have burned up 100 if it meant riding with you! Daddy's a bit of a wienie; he doesn't do rides. He waved and snapped photos while you made my knuckles turn white holding onto your waist. Have you no fear, child?
Since you were such a good girl- dealing with the heat, the masses of 120,000 people, staying in your stroller, and using the Porta-Potties like nobody's business, you were able to chose a souvenir. It was a toss-up between an inflatable Scooby Doo of epic proportions, or paying homage to your roots and the 5-piece John Deere playset. The latter of the two won out- look at how happy you were to revel in your prize.
Daddy's been teaching you to say anhydrous tank ever since.
So much fun ... on a stick!
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