So we took another swing at the Evergreen State Fair this summer. If you’re just joining Milk & Whiskey, read THIS POST first, for some background.
Turns out, the Madness has overcome her completely rational fear of paper bracelets and carnies. Our suggestion of a trip to the fair was met with unbridled enthusiasm and repeated assurances that she loved paper bracelets and would happily wear six of them if it meant she could go through the Michael Jackson themed funhouse eleventy-thousand times.
Seriously, take a minute to get all the Michael Jackson jokes out of your system. I’ll wait.
This year, we were meeting up with Maehem, naturally, and also Madz’ new friend…let’s call him El Capitan, in deference to the jaunty ascot and pilot’s cap he likes to wear.
This kid is destined one day to take the place of “The Most Interesting Man in the World.” In the meantime, El Capitan is trapped in a love triangle of his own making, tortured by the question of which girl he will one day marry. Will it be the vivacious, carefree Maehem? Or the dark and tempestuous Madness?
It’s a tough call, I’ll grant you, and we anxiously await his final word on the matter. In the meantime, I was just worried the girls would ice him out entirely and buddy up on all the rides. To delay the heartbreak, we pointed the little demons to a ride that could handle all three of them. You may be familiar with it – I believe it’s called the spinning teacups of death.
The girls grabbed hold of our young Captain and hauled his skinny ass passed toothless Joe and into the pink teacup. His face was alight with the glow of simple joy, sandwiched between the loves of his short life.
Then began a metaphor that he won’t fully appreciate until he’s thirty-five. The girls grabbed hold of the wheel and began to spin the teacup with all the force their little arms could muster…which turned out to be a pretty impressive degree of force, actually. Their hair was flying, their faces glinting with insane glee. The girls’ faces, that is. Poor El Capitan turned various cotton candy shades. His eyes went glassy.
I leaned as far over the fence as I could and screamed “MAEHEM!” Not because it was her fault, but because I know from experience that the Madness can’t hear my voice unless she wants something from me. The teacups spiralled away and back. “MAEHEM!” I screamed again, trying not to sound too panicked. Capitan’s dad noticed what I’d noticed and shouted, too.
“Cap! Close your eyes!?”
“NO!” I screamed, giving dad that ‘are you f’ing crazy look?’ I usually reserve for my own husband. “Do NOT close your eyes! GODDAMMIT, MAEHEM, STOP SPINNING!!!”
Capitan’s face went from glazed to straight blank. He slumped over, smacked his head on the edge of the teacup and startled back to consciousness. Maehem FINALLY heard me. She and Madness stared at me, trying to make out my concern as I flailed my arms each time they tried to start spinning again. Neither of them spared even a glance at the semi-conscious boy I was sure was seconds from puking in my daughter’s lap.
Capitan slowly revived. The ride went on for freaking EVER – so glad I wasn’t on it – before it finally shuddered to a stop. The kids piled off. Capitan looked straight at me and, I shit you not, called out – “The teacups are FUN!”
So is mescalin, I guess. Doesn’t mean you do it again the same day.
Oh Evergreen fair, why can’t I quit you?