Saturday, July 19, 2008


My wife and I just took our son to the Exhibition. It's the same kind of event that would be called a county fair in other places - some carnival midway rides, and a bunch of people bringing in crafts / livestock / produce / etc. in hopes of having ribbons pinned on their entries.

My son and I are pretty much just interested in the rides. The Crazy Bus was one of his favourites last year. It didn't enthrall him to the same degree this year, but he gave it a try or two. Here's a picture of him boarding this year's model.

One benefit of his getting older is that he's also getting bigger. Perhaps there's some correlation there, which I could use as an excuse for my waistline's annual expansion. This year he could ride the Crazy Bus alone, whereas last year I had to go with him. I felt a bit out of my element, because it's a much longer bus than I'm used to.

Discipline in our household has always been complicated by the fact that my son isn't afraid of anything. Threats are an important element in any parent's toolbox, but a fearless child makes threats difficult. I've long held that if I could find something that frightened my son, I'd brandish it like Lex Luthor with a chunk of Kryptonite.

I kind of hope Michael Jackson never gets convicted, because if he goes to jail then I lose my "If you don't knock it off, I'll sell you to Michael Jackson!" threat. (My understanding is that Mr. Jackson prefers rentals, but I hold out hope of interesting him in a lease-to-own arrangement.) Unfortunately, my son isn't worried by that threat in the least. Perhaps his not having the slightest clue who Michael Jackson is removes a bit of the sting.

At the Exhibition, I finally found something he fears: The Spider. The Spider is a ride where the passengers sit in cars at the end of a large "spider's" legs, getting spun around and swung up and down. My wife went on it with him, and it was the only ride he didn't enjoy. After the first rotation, he turned to her and asked if he could get off now. Once the ride finally stopped, he had absolutely no interest in going again.

So, clearly, I have to get a Spider and put it in the backyard. "Eat your supper, or we're going on the ride!" Hey, maybe the next out-of-court settlement will force Michael Jackson to sell one of his at a discount price!

Enough rambling. Here's a picture of my son boarding The Spider. He was still excited about the prospect at this point. Little did he know.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I remember the Spider. I guess it was my Viet Nam, because I still have the trauma. The exhibition in Toronto always gets this one thing call the Drop of Fear. Get strapped in, get raised the equivalent of six stories, get dropped, squeal like a pig, puke.