On Saturday morning we loaded up all three tormentors and headed downtown to the National Book Festival.
Because:
a) I love books.
b) I was dying to see Laura Bush.
c) I am a fucking idiot.
C. The answer is C.
I don't hate books - or Laura Bush for that matter - but I won't traipse down to the Mall on a rainy Saturday for either of those things.
Last year, I took Lumpyhead to a PBS reception on the Hill and he met some walk-around characters and had a great time. He has no memory of it, of course, but we pulled out a polaroid of him (a very tiny him - sniff sniff) with SuperWhy and it blew his fricken mind.
We got wind of the PBS characters coming to the Book Festival, so I convinced Bump we should go. "Sid the Science Kid will be there!" "Even Lula loves SuperWhy now!" "It will be a fun family outing!"
Bump dropped off Lumpyhead, Lula and me near the PBS tent and went to go find parking.
It was fairly miserable. We dressed for "cool and rainy," but got "warm and humid." Bump had the baby and the stroller with him, so I was stuck clutching the sweaty hands of two ready-to-bolt children while we waited in line to meet celebrities like Alpha Pig.
Lula was reasonably happy until it was our turn to meet the characters, at which point she became terrified and refused to get anywhere near them. Lumpyhead spent his fleeting moments with the poor bastards in PBS costumes pointing to the other characters and screaming their names. I'm sure there's nothing better than suffering heat stroke in a heavy costume while some kid exclaims that the guy waiting at the end of the other line is better than you.
(Hey, remember when we went to a children's concert and I spent the entire time thinking inappropriate thoughts about the performer? Well, he was there, too.
He's getting up from his chair so I can lick tequila off him more easily.)
After circling for thirty minutes and nearly getting my ID confiscated, Bump gave up, parked in my work lot, and took the metro to meet us. By the time he got to the Mall the kids were ready to go, so he turned right around and got back on the metro.
Once we were back in the air-conditioned comfort of the van, and Nathan Jr had stopped screaming, I thought, "Well, that was fun."
Kick me if I ever try to do something like that again.
At least Lumpyhead thought it was awesome.
1 comment:
You need a memory as bad as Lumpyhead's so you can't remember not to go back.
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