A Fair-ly Excellent Evening
I slept in this morning. Way in. Bailey didn't even stir from her expensive wicker bed, or the place on the carpet she stains with the oil from her fur to come and plop down indignantly outside our bedroom door, just loud enough to wake me from my slumber. She's getting older, I guess. Sleep takes precedence over her belly, although I must confess I never thought I'd see the day!

So, The Boy rolls over and says sleepily, "Were you aware that it's ten to seven?"

I know he was just trying to be nice, but a comment like that causes me to vault out of bed and head immediately to the washroom, pumped so full of adrenaline that my head pounds for the next 20 mintues. Never a good scene, since increased blood flow to the noggin will usually result in a migraine. Bah. Not this morning, thank heavens.

Mom and I went to the fair last night and had a blast. Inside the gates for all of 30 seconds, I made a beeline for the first vendor selling corn dogs and bought a footlong. Slathered with mustard (the dog and my face), we wandered around so Mom could make her grease-and-salt laden dinner choice. She settled on a sausage dog covered with grilled peppers. Yuck, it was a fine decision until she ordered those damn peppers...

Our normal route is through the buildings filled with vendors hawking the latest this and the coolest that (actually, I saw a cool gel pillow that's supposed to stop neck pain, back pain and migraines that I was this close to buying, but at the last minute I was distracted by some shiny jewellery at the next stall). We give the midway a miss, because as I get older I find that just standing on terra firma watching some of those rides can make me start to heave. We always, always go through the Agricultural Building so I can pet the horses and listen to their owners say what big sucks they are, just as I do with Bailey. It's cute to hear that as I'm peering into one honking great eyeball as the horse nuzzles my palm, searching for oats or a stray carrot.

We found that our usual walkabout only took a fraction of the time it usually does, so we set about thinking of other fun stuff to do. The Imax theatre sprang to mind and we hoofed it over there, wading through throngs of adolescents who looked like they needed both a lesson in common courtesy and a slap upside the head with the hand that wears the big ring. We approached the theatre to see a young man sweeping out the lobby. The schedule posted on the door curtly informed us that the last show began 10 mintues ago, and we were S.O.L. Damn, it was free too. I suspect The Boy and I will go back at a later time to see "The Human Body", even if it does mean shelling out for it. It looked like it might be worth it. At least, more worth it than most of the pappy crap you will find at the overpriced theatres around town.

Then it came to me: take Mom to see the casino! She has gambled at the out of town slots before, but hadn't popped a token in any of the One Armed Bandits in her hometown yet. So, we stroll in with the single intention of people-watching, when hey presto! she's pulling a tenner out of her wallet and heading for the change machine. We split the tokens, and next thing you know, Mom's won 100 credits, and I've hit the "Winning Streak", which provides you with some nice graphics and the opportunity to sit back and watch while the computer takes a few spins on your behalf. I ended up hitting the Winning Streak twice in half an hour, and came out 91 tokens (or quarters) ahead on just those two spins. We walked out $70 up overall, and tickled pink.

We picked up a Back Bacon on a Bun for The Boy who couldn't go, seeing as he was in tremendous pain from doing the back roof (on his holidays, even), a bag of icing sugar coated mini donuts for his dessert and a flat of Icicle Pansies for Mom, then off home. It was a great success, and I was a tired but happy camper as I headed off to dreamland last night.

Ever since I moved out in 1996, Mom and I haven't done a lot of things together, just us, and I miss that. My niece was born in June of 1997, and she and Dad have centred a fair amount of attention on my sister's family since the blessed event. I made an offhand comment last year, (when I was in a snit about being overlooked) guessing aloud that the only way I was going to get any of her attention again was to have a kid myself.

Oh, the irony. What I mean is, I can't seem to have a kid. Is that irony? I think so.

But that's another story.

Posted at 8:16 a.m.