We spent the evening in Weiser today wandering around the booths set up for the annual town festival. In Weiser this happens to be the Fiddle Fest. Yes, a whole week devoted to fiddling. If you are bluegrass fan, this is the place to be. For the rest of us, it's just a chance to wander corny local bazzaars and shop at goofy trinket booths. Oh, and pay exorbitant prices to ride in circles on chintzy carnival rides. The kids seem to love circles and have stomachs of iron though, so I guess it's all good.
Poor Matt though. It seems no one really felt that root beer would sell well enough at the booths to stock it. I walked the entire stupid circuit looking for root beer for that kid and no one had it. This of course commenced a 20 minute melt down in which he forgot how to say anything but "I want root beer!" (Imagine this long and drawn out and spoken with all the anguish of all the people who thought Noah was an idiot. It could only be calmed by a promise of a marshmallow gun and a free sample of kettle corn. (big brother and sister already got their marshmallow guns so I'm not a total pushover. really.) A second melt down was barely averted by a quick run for more tickets so the Little Prince could ride the "roller coaster." (this ride can only be spoken of in quotes, because it only aproximated a roller coaster.) That was fun though. He joined his older sisters and his dad, but not his older brother who could not be persuaded that the thing was not going to kill him. who knows, with these carnival rides, he may have been right.
Mommy was tired after that so we went home. all outings are always over when mommy is tired. that's the rule.