I Never Wanted to go to the Fair

May 12, 2015

Written by Marykate O’Malley, mother of three wonderful children, Gladwyne PA 

 

I never wanted to go to the fair. The fair I went to as a child. That we went to every year. The St. Denis Fair. The fair where we got stuck on the top of the ferris wheel 2 years ago when the generator blew. For 20 minutes, dangling and suspended, peering into classrooms and looking down on all the people looking up at us. I didn’t buy the advanced discount tickets when my kind brother asked. “I am not going this year”,  I said. “First communion, and we have a fair at school, and just too busy.” It was my hiatus. My mini vacation. My Punta Cana, my margarita on the beach, soft wind caressing the pages of my novel, toes in the sand. My rebelling against the standards and norm of our family (we do fairs). I would break with tradition and had it all planned out. I would avoid the part of town where the fair was. I wouldn’t mention it and then when they inquired (after it was over) I would casually remark, “oh well, I guess we missed it this year. We will go next.”

And then at the end of the first communion party my oldest descends on me unsuspecting. And between chatting with friends and family, and clearing tables, and brewing coffee to go with the cake and cookies I am trapped, a fly in a web, caught in distraction and a weakness for wanting to be the mom who let’s her kids go to the fair, even though she doesn’t want to deal with the fair. Imploring (begging) I shrug my shoulders and acquiesce – after all I am not taking her. I am not standing in lines that snake around corners and concession stands, the smell of funnel cake drifting through the crowds. The roar of roller coasters, and shrieks of children giddy with delight, tickets, and step right ups.

An hour or so later, after the last guest leaves, and the house is orderly enough, my son asks where is older sister. And then I remembered, in a moment of weakness what I had allowed. Of course they would find out, when she came home with prizes and stories of rides, and boardwalk fries. I said evenly, and casually, “she went to the fair” barely breathing waiting for his response. And knowing if he asked to go, I must. The strife and discord and mutiny that would ensue with only one child going to the fair would be too much to bear.

 

 

I am at the fair. Holding 3 goldfish. We meet up with my oldest and are in line for the ferris wheel that snakes around the ticket booth. And my kind brother is there, volunteering at the bow and arrow booth. And he brings the advanced tickets my mom got for them, the tickets I didn’t know about until then. And we catch up with friends between rides and funnel cake. And visit with my brother.

Goldie, Poseidon, and Gilbert. I always wanted grandchildren I told them. 

And I realized that as I lay plans – strategically, stealthily plot out plans laid down like railroad tracks or dominoes stacked neatly and thoughtfully taking me to my destination, life has something else entirely different in mind. And it is usually better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Category: Random and Fun
Tags: fairs, family, ferris wheel, fun, life, mommy blog, plans |