When I was younger, I remember waiting all year for the Chenango County Fair to roll around. With five children, my parents never dared to make the hike to the New York State Fair or to an amusement park, but to us, the county fair was all you could ask for.
I can remember in great detail the last time I went to the fair as a child. My best friend went with me, and after one turn about on the tilt-a-whirl, she was too sick to attempt to go on any other rides. Of course we still had fun, running through the fun house, streaming down the water-slide, basking in the sun and playing a bunch of games that we could never win.
It’s been a few years since I’ve actually gotten to go to the fair and ride the rides and be yelled at to play games by those guys in the booths. It’s been a really long time since I’ve indulged in fried dough or cotton candy or anything purchased from the window of a trailer. Suddenly, I feel ready to act like a kid again.
Despite the heat and the crowds and the unavoidable fact that I’m probably going to run into at least 10 people who I really don’t want to talk to, I can’t wait for my chance to go to the fair.