The county fair is going on now. I don't know if I can afford to take the kids to it this weekend.
Not just because cheap gasoline has been harder to find than young, beautiful women with a thing for middle-aged divorced guys with no money. Because I'm taking the honyocks to a better fair come Monday.
This is Christmas from Grandma. Part of it at least. For me and the girls. Because there's a zero percent chance I'd be taking them to World's of Fun the day before school starts on my budget.
I am so stoked, though. Sure, my boss is at this moment returning from Florida with his three foster kids who got the Disney treatment, and I don't even know first hand how superior that is or is not. And on one level I'm jealous. If I hadn't contributed at least 50% to an utterly screwed up marriage, me and the artist formerly known could have taken our honyocks to Disney World. Though we'd have better sense than to visit Florida in August. For crying out loud, that would be a fitting punishment for child molesters and serial killers.
I might take the girls to the fair, but we're not doing the arm band thing. Maybe two rides, probably less than what we did at Old Shawnee Days.
There is still Santa-Cali-Gon coming up. Not to mention the circus, not sure if we're doing that this year. If we're not, blame BP. But come Monday, there's the Patriot, the Mamba, and so on and so forth...
1 comment:
You're a good dad.
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