About a month ago, I decided to take all my children to see Karate Kid. I have this thing about movie previews - I love them about as much as a the movie itself and therefore, I feel cheated if I walk in late to a movie. I was very pumped about seeing both the movie and the previews for whatever might be coming next.
So we all piled in the car at 6:50 pm and made our way through our road construction laden town and finally came to the theater at 7:10. There I discovered our movie had started 10 minutes before. Angst!
Now I had a battle in my mind, walk in 10 minutes late after the show was obviously in full swing, all the previews missed by a mile, or go to another theater. I whipped out my handy 3G phone and found another theater and another time. I convinced my kids to sit in a car a little longer and off we went to the Harbor in Rockwall - on a Thursday night - in the summer.
As I turned down the street to The Harbor I noticed lines and lines of cars EVERYWHERE. My first thought was: - "I wonder which incredibly wealthy family was having a major party" and then it occurred to me that it was Thursday night - at The Harbor - during the summer and that meant - Free Concert and a million people. It also meant no parking places, cars going every which way and a sea of people trying to fit themselves into a key hole sized lawn for a free concert. And All I wanted to do was take the kids to a movie.
Then I saw my oasis. Valet. I pulled up, handed my car over and all the kids piled out onto the pavement. I thought this was a very wise way to spend 10 dollars. No hassle. The only unfortunate consequence was Sarah not understanding why I had just handed my car keys to a total stranger. I wasn't sure I was going to get her out of the car for a minute. But when no one else seemed alarmed she relented her hold on the door frame and into the movie we went.
Two hours, three drinks, a package of candy and one giant popcorn container later - and we were back outside going to get my car. As we approached the valet hut, my heart sank.
Where did all these people come from. Literally over 200 people were smooshed into a 300 foot concrete radius with the Valet Hut as its center. I pushed myself and the three very grumpy, candy and soda spiked kiddoes to the front of the counter and looked at the frenzy of activity. Keys flew passed me and people ran back and forth grabbing tickets. Where was the line? Where was some help? And hHow was I going to manage this at 10:30 p.m., with three grumpy kids for what looked like at least an hour wait to just get my car back?!
That is when the inquisitive kid syndrome hit my older two boys. They had also been watching the busyness of the valet hut and were astonished by how it ran. They began to ask the valet guy questions. Incessant questions. Questions about the keys to all the cars. Questions about the valet guy. Questions about headlights, flashlights, and their uniforms. I tried to pull them away and get them to sit,but my heart wasn't in it.
After about two minutes the Valet guy told the boys to start looking for our keys ourselves. My boys went after the search with gusto! But the questions just didn't stop. Now the questions were: Do you see a Nissan key? Mom does it have a clicker on it like daddies? Is that it? Hey look at that one! We need a flashlight! and Sir, do you have a flashlight? The Valet guy looked at me and saw that I had one child hugging my waist while whining, plus two boys that were pretty sugared up. With an exhasperated sigh, he asked for my ticket. I happily handed him my valet ticket. He promptly found my keys and put them at the front of the line. I sheepishly smiled at him and thanked him while literally pulling my two boys from the Valet Hut.
15 muntes later, we were in our car and on the road home. Thank you inquisitive boys!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Pit Party
It is a tradition in Okeene, Oklahoma to attend the annual Pit Party. This is not a town function really, but the kind of easy going, whoever wants to come (and by the way- bring some food) affair that I have always dreamed small towns were made of.
So once a year, right after the 4th of July when fireworks are cheap in OK, people show up at the shale pit. It is set a few miles down a couple country roads. You wouldn't know how to get there unless someone told you and even then a city slicker could easily get lost if they missed the cattle guard in the road and then forgot to turn left at the second gate. (These were not the real directions, since I never drive there, but as a city slicker rely on my friends to take me)
This year, we got lucky to my standards and found ourselves eating and playing in the pasture above the pit. It was a lot less dusty and I didn't feel completely caked in red dirt afterward. The pasture did offer new challenges in that giant piles of cow pies were laying around everywhere - some fresh. When the cars started showing up, the cows moved on, but not before we all got to see a little bit of the herd including a calf and a pregnant cow. Sarah thought that was really cool. However, she was still oblivious to the down-home fun that was about to transpire.
Out of the back of a huge truck, black cats, sparklers and other types of poppers started flying into the hands of excited children and watchful adults. A prayer of safety was said over the group, and then the shooting began.
Dizzying sounds of popping fireworks with the occasional bellow of warning mixed with the squeal of delight reverberated around the pasture. The wind was blowing as it does in Ok. and so a few times, a firework would shoot into the air, go off and then we would be sprayed with debris. This was usually followed by figuring out who the culprit was and telling them to move on down the hill so ash wouldn't get in the hamburgers.
In all, it was a good time, as always. We watched the kids have fun, made small talk with our old friends and some new friends. And then, when all the fireworks have been used up and there wasn't one sparkler left for the kids to light, we all went home to happily hit the hay :)
So once a year, right after the 4th of July when fireworks are cheap in OK, people show up at the shale pit. It is set a few miles down a couple country roads. You wouldn't know how to get there unless someone told you and even then a city slicker could easily get lost if they missed the cattle guard in the road and then forgot to turn left at the second gate. (These were not the real directions, since I never drive there, but as a city slicker rely on my friends to take me)
This year, we got lucky to my standards and found ourselves eating and playing in the pasture above the pit. It was a lot less dusty and I didn't feel completely caked in red dirt afterward. The pasture did offer new challenges in that giant piles of cow pies were laying around everywhere - some fresh. When the cars started showing up, the cows moved on, but not before we all got to see a little bit of the herd including a calf and a pregnant cow. Sarah thought that was really cool. However, she was still oblivious to the down-home fun that was about to transpire.
Out of the back of a huge truck, black cats, sparklers and other types of poppers started flying into the hands of excited children and watchful adults. A prayer of safety was said over the group, and then the shooting began.
Dizzying sounds of popping fireworks with the occasional bellow of warning mixed with the squeal of delight reverberated around the pasture. The wind was blowing as it does in Ok. and so a few times, a firework would shoot into the air, go off and then we would be sprayed with debris. This was usually followed by figuring out who the culprit was and telling them to move on down the hill so ash wouldn't get in the hamburgers.
In all, it was a good time, as always. We watched the kids have fun, made small talk with our old friends and some new friends. And then, when all the fireworks have been used up and there wasn't one sparkler left for the kids to light, we all went home to happily hit the hay :)
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