It’s French Toast Friday!
Last summer at the County Fair, I was standing in line to get ice cream cones for the troops. They all insisted they wanted vanilla. This should have been a red flag. One that was wildly waving. Held by a person jumping up and down trying to catch my attention. Instead, I’m zoned out by the heat, staring at the 4H cows lined up behind the ice cream booth, waiting to go in the ring. I’m 30th in the ice cream line.
I love the ones that look like deer. Jersey’s? Such sweet brown eyes.
Balancing 4 melting vanilla ice cream cones, I elbow my way back to the jewelry booth where we agreed to meet. I notice, vaguely, it’s next to a booth with a mechanical bull. Abrupt double-take: Micah is talking animatedly to the cowgirl. I DON’T THINK SO. What is Shaun thinking? No kids on bulls.
Micah feels my stare and bounds over. I’m instantly surrounded by hands reaching for ice creams. Nice. They got me out of the way for that one.
“Sorry,” I say, “ask for the money back. You are NOT going to ride that bull.”
Micah looks at me with glee. Wrong response. He should be sulking. I glance at Shaun, she is glued to the fair map…wait…is it upside down?
“Nope,” he says, “I’m not going to ride the bull.”
Oh. He was flirting with the operator? She has to have ten years on him. Lord. Can I live through the teenage years?
Micah and Lee-Lee look at each other, and Shaun grabs both their ice creams before they drop them. They each snag one of my arms and start bouncing and pulling.
“YOU are gonna ride the bull!” says Micah.
Continue reading “FTF: Riding the Bull”