Fair Fare

The Texas State Fair is held every year in Dallas--always in October--and Texans go hog wild for it.

I don't know when I became such a germophobe but it seems I rival Howard Hughes in my attempt to remain untouched at the fair.  Muck and grimy ick coat everything at the State Fair of Texas: the rides, the game booths, the food tents, the ground, everything. But, as Texans, we always attend because it is a pastime that has been an institution in Dallas for 125 years.

Each year I seem to be fascinated by a new item/area at the fair.  For example, one year I was intrigued by the sideshow entitled "The World's Smallest Horse."  My kids totally sucked us in so we paid a small fortune to go inside a trailer and look at a gerbil wearing a makeshift saddle. The attendees are always amazing to watch as well, mostly because of wardrobe choices.  This is one area that never fails to entertain me.  The fashion winner last year was a guy who had on tight jean shorts (aka jorts).  That's right.  I said "tight" and "jean shorts on a guy" in the same sentence.  His enormous belly was a useful prop as it spread his t-shirt out enough so one could read the caption "Stud Inside." 

This year I was absolutely astounded by the food choices.  Fried food is always a big deal at the State Fair, but they have REALLY gone overboard frying everything from chicken skin and oreos to butter.  Yes.  That's right.  Fried butter.  Maybe next year they will offer deep-fried cigarettes.  Fingers crossed!  One thing is for sure--if you go and dine on all the fine morsels at the Texas State Fair, you'll want to wait awhile before going to get your cholesterol checked. (Please note the sign below--not fried chicken but fried chicken skin.)

Mommy Snafus

I am in a constant state of "busted" with my kids---it was so much easier when they couldn't read or comprehend four letter expletives.  Ahhh.....the days I could talk like a sailor, cursing my dishwasher, while my babies toddled around and cooed at me not understanding a word I said....."wah wah wah" was the translation, just like the teacher in Charlie Brown. Those were the good ol' days.....

Yesterday I dropped a glass jar of spaghetti sauce.......splattered all over me and the kitchen----while battling with the dog to keep him out of the mess and broken glass, I lobbed a KABOOM of an f-bomb.......I froze.  The dog and I stared at each other with silent fear, like two soldiers deep in the trenches awaiting a possible enemy attack.  It was quiet.  Too quiet...."WAIT!" I remembered the kids were playing outside....and then......Napalm....

"UMMMMMM.....MOMMY.....WE HEARD THAT!"  Crap.  There is no coming back from that---no way to un-ring that bell.  Those damn Mommy Snafus will get you every time!