We did many fun things that we meant to photograph but didn't. Which is a shame because The Banana's summer homework was to read seven books on Medieval Times and write a report on it, but in June I got the idea that maybe we could skip all that and just hit The Renaissance Fair-take some photos and write a report based on those... Because it is never too early to teach your young children how to pull meaningless homework assignments out of their butts at the very last minute.
It was Pirate Invasion day at The Renaissance Fair, so there were more pirates than princesses...but we did get this shot with the King and Queen.
Everybody is all happy and smiley, and nobody's face paint is smudged with tears cried when mommy wouldn't spring for the $25.00 dragon puppet that someone would probably play with once and then never again, and no one had thigh chaffe from sweaty legs rubbing together under this...my costume....
Because no one had bothered to tell me that the official dress for women at The Renaissance Fair was a top that showed as much corseted boob as possible. (But this dress? $29 at Holy Clothing. A bargain considering the use I know I will get out of it. It makes me feel like a younger, prettier Mrs. Roper.)
But then, the day wore on as days do, and the heat soared and we all started to feel like this
So as we got back in the car, I asked The Spawn what they had learned from this educational Day Trip.
"Mutton is Good." Said the Banana.
"People had jiggely boobs back then" said my son.
9 comments:
Couple of things...
1. That dress is so Arwen I love it.
2. Thigh chaffe is the worst.
3. "Jiggly boobs" might be the greatest thing ever written on your blog.
Ah, jiggling mammary bags. Probably best they stopped the authenticity there, and didn't go whole hog. You know, what with the syphilis and bad oral hygiene.
WV: rustshil
What I call my friend Russell when I'm drunker than Dudley Moore.
I think you taught the kids a VERY valuable lesson!
Oh and apparently the teenagers are calling thigh chaffe "chub rub" these days!
i stumbled on your blog from an old ETSY post somewhere in the depths of the forum a couple weeks ago, and i gotta say that i'm very glad i did.
amongst all the craft blogs and baby blogs it's nice to find one with real talk... not tea and ultrasounds.
thigh chaffe= gold bonds in the glove box.
my boyfriends favorite product.
::snorts::: you said jiggly boobs!
Someone is paying attention.
Hey! That faire is EXACTLY where I was in July.
Well, just down the street - in Bear Mountain Park and at Rhodes on Rt. 17 in Suffern.
You know, when you were OUT OF TOWN!
Next time, let's meet - signed. your loving cyber-stalker
XOXOXOXO
Jiggly boobs - how precious. And observant.
For the record, though, those aren't turkey legs. They're emu legs.
(Emus are closely related to ostriches. Both birds are found naturally only in Australia. They're about as tall as an adult human - a little taller if you count the neck, a little shorter if you don't, flightless, and capable of running at about 40mph.)
They get sold as turkey legs because it seems less off-puttingly weird and confusing to the average consumer, but turkeys don't grow that big. Strange as it seems, there actually are farms in the US raising birds native to the other side of the globe just to sell their ginormous drumsticks to be roasted and resold as comically oversized turkey legs at fairs and amusement parks.
(So, hey... Banana was only slightly less accurate than most of the adults involved. ;) )
Jiggly boobs. Chub rub. Um, not guilty.
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