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Friday, March 9, 2012

Prelude to a Turkey Leg

Lately we've been trying to prevent Jack from realizing just how much Caroline has diluted his lot in life as the Numero Uno.

So, Poppa and I took him to the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo this week.  It's kinda similar to the State Fair, if you savvy.  One of the guys at Greener Pastures Capital is big into the Rodeo, and he said a certain day was a great day to get out there.  So I skived off work and we went.  I had never been before (I know, I know).

It was, in fact, a pretty darn great day to head down there.  Pristine weather.  2012's springtime has just tiptoed up and pounced on us.  It was warm and sunshiny and smelled like spring.  And diesel.  And barnyard.  And fried turkey legs.  But all that's perfectly okay.

Technically, we never got to the 'rodeo' part, but saw all we could during the early afternoon.  Jack climbed on every single John Deere tractor and demitractor they had.  In sequence, he would hop on one after the other, almost frantically.  After it was all over, he said that was his favorite part.  I really didn't intend for the experience to peak so early.

But we got to see the biggest longhorn (and the smallest hereford) I've ever seen. One really awesome looking longhorn, upon seeing Poppa cruise up to his pen, casually swiveled his head 90 degrees and back.  His horn, with a tip like a No. 2 pencil, had tracked a perfect arc about eight inches from Poppa's nose.

We moved along.

Jack even tolerated the screaming crowd at mutton bustin' (ask a friend) while kids in hockey cages abused, and were abused by, irritated sheep.  He held his hands tightly over his ears, trying to melt into the aluminum bleachers between my feet.  He still looked pretty intrigued at the spectacle, anyway.

We were all pretty tired and hungry, and decided to eat all sorts of food that would appall just about any one of you.  Boudain, deep fried turkey legs, sausages on sticks, serum cholesterol levels, nothing was safe.  It's probably no secret to you parents that properly managing the food situation is the key to a successful outing.  With Jack and Jack's father, he gets cranky, and you feed him.  He gets cranky again, and you feed him.  He gets cranky a third time and you feed him... and quickly head for the exit.  We executed that strategy perfectly between the carny food and some disgustingly squishy LĂ„RABARs that were stuffed into my back pockets.

But NOT before Poppa outfitted Jack with a cowboy hat on the walk out.  By the time we hit the truck and were out on 288, Jack had already crumpled in a heap, his eyes tightly shut.

And that (after an hour of traffic and tolls) was that.

I'll try to uh, rustle up some pictures of all this when I can.  The memory card on the camera declared itself completely full... as Jack climbed up on the yellow and greens.  Naturally.

2 comments:

Bebe said...

Sounds like a fun day!!!

Roxanne said...

A delightfully perfect day. . .cholesterol levels not withstanding. I am quite sure that Caroline and Majesty did not miss it ONE TINY BIT. :)