Collin grew up in a semi-small town where the fair is the thing to do. These people take their fair very seriously, and I, as a result of our marriage, have had to adopt this tradition. Let me be frank: at first, I was not down. The fair was, in my mind, the armpit of America. The last thing America needs is more fried food, a lot of really bad crop-top moments, and more Kid Rock (although I have been seen at the annual Kid Rock concert a time or two, because "all summer long" was my jam).
Anyways, I've changed my tune since having kids and the fair is totally my jam now. (#ripolivia)
There's really nothing like walking through the gates, seeing the kids eyes just light up, and smelling a fried elephant ear. God Bless Amurica.
We went early on Saturday to the fair and had the best time. There weren't a ton of people (partly due to an unpredictable forecast (hello, Seattle in September), and largely due to Labor Day weekend), so there were zero lines for anything. We stocked up on Fair Scones, ate cotton candy & fresh dairy ice cream (the best!!), the kids rode dinky fair rides that cost way too much, and Baylor mulled over the John Deere booth for what seemed like an eternity. Collin and I exchanged about a hundred "this is the best!" glances and knew we were walking in one of those special moments of being a family. It was just really good.
Happy Hump Day! We're headed back to the fair tomorrow, because we just can't get enough!
