Okay, OKay, I'm lazy

But my other laptop died awhile back and it was hard for me to get online with anything other than the Berry. And Berry is no good for doing this sort of thing.

Anyhow - we've been up to a lot and I hope to start catching up with everything. Keith "graduated" kindergarten, we went camping, he's in summer camp, Patrick and I are still working, and life seems okay for now. I'm still having chest pain and things, but I'm dealing with that the best I can and moving forward.

Keith's sixth birthday party is next week, and I guess I should finish the pinata tonight. So far we have quite a few of his classmates showing up, and a few of my adult friends might be there as well. Saturday will be a day rife with birthdays, as it's also Virginia's birthday. She's having her party in the morning at Whole Foods.

Yes, Whole Foods does birthday parties. I have no idea what goes on at a Whole Foods birthday party and I have no desire to find out I will be dropping Keith off to do whatever they do with Organic Food and then Patrick and I will be picking up food for his party later on that day. V's mom tells me that it involves cooking, kitchen safety, and something about a target made out of ice cream. Whatevs, so long as they have fun.

Keith's party will be at the park by the lake, where hopefully we may escape the 90 degree temperatures. Even if we don't, I have water balloons. I have a slate of games for the kids to play for prizes, we're having a little cookout, and I don't know how I will keep the ice cream cold for the afternoon. I just don't think I can carry that much ice.

Keith has taken to reading comic books for the summer. I honestly don't care, I'm just glad he's found something he enjoys reading. Keith is selectively smart. He seems to choose who he is smart with and when. It's kind of strange.

This past weekend was the Custer Fair up the street from us. It's a big Hoo-Doo, with the usual stages and performers, food and craft booths. I love craft fairs, but the more of them I attend, the more I realize that they all have the basic weird stuff. There's always the weird jewelry types, the uber-weird clothing booths, the knitting booth, the sad guy selling landscapes, the weird wall hangings, and the super weird furniture made of knotty wood. Variations on these themes abound, but there they are. I like jewelry, but I tend to look and move on, thinking I'll come back later if I still want it. By the time I'm done wandering, I forget what it was and decide it wasn't that memorable. I never, NEVER buy clothing at a craft fair. Lord knows what was involved in that.

This fair had some Kid's Clothes that looked like a virtual gaurantee of getting creamed on the playground; rainbow print short dresses, red and white polka dot smock tops complete with matching beret, blue pinstripe shorts with flower print tops, and gaudy suspenders as far as the eye could see. I've always been a big proponent of "never put your kids in anything you wouldn't wear yourself." None of these things were anything I would consider putting my pet in, much less wear myself. I didn't bother looking at the price tags, but I can only imagine that she was grossly overcharging for what amounted to kiddie clownwear and a trip to the ER.

I had spent the morning volunteering at the school PTA booth, trying to sell t-shirts and water bottles and few of the other things they sell to try and raise money. I learned the hard way that folks realy don't like being spoken to at craft fairs. My usual cheerful and engaging tradeshow manner was rebuffed! The dumpy old women were grumpy, the hawkish types were outright mean, and no one wanted to buy any notecards! Towards the end of my volunteering stint, I was being so nice I could have peeled paint, just to see how awful and mean the craft fair patrons would be in response. I love me.

We gave Keith ten dollars to spend at the fair. Before anyone says we're too lenient, this would include treats. Some asshat was trying to push a ridiculous duck pushtoy on Keith, and Keith was starting to look longingly at said Duck. Okay, pushtoys are for toddlers. And this "made in China" plastic duck was nothing I wanted in my home. Upon giving Keith his ten dollars, I stated that all toy purchases had to be approved.

Then it was official. I became THE WORST MOM EVER.

Keith whined and moaned, dragged his feet and gave a performance worthy of Shakspeare. Worst mom ever. "You never let me buy ANYTHING. I just want the DUCK."

"No. There are surely other things you will find interesting here." Looking amongst the windchimes made of old spoons, the flat rocks with little flames coming out of them, and the scary mask sculptures, I wasn't sure he would. But there would be ice cream for sure, and ice cream heals all wounds.

Did I mention the Peruvian people? At every craft fair there's two or three booths of Peruvians, and they're all selling little handbags, sparkly stuffed animals, pipes and flutes, and small toys. Maybe an ocarina. The Peruvians had INVADED this fair. I counted SIX Peruvian booths, all with the same wares. This time, they had made bows and arrows out of PVC pipe and dowel rods, selling them for five bucks. Keith wanted one. Perfect. Now I can stop feeling guilty about never buying anything from the Peruvians.

I got an amber and silver ring, as I've always wanted a piece of Amber jewelry.

We ate some greasy fair food, followed by ice cream and dancing in the square. The musicians started out playing some fast and cheerful tunes, but once the kids started dancing they decided to play some slow and somber stuff inspired by their trips to indian graveyards in the Black Hills. As a result, the kids dances looked like interpretive movement. I just wanted to stand up and scream, "can't you go back to the happy crap? Please??"

But all that's done now, and the arrows from the bow and arrow set have become tollbooths at the various doorways around the apartment. Fortunately I am the favored parent and I get through for free.