There is nothing like taking my 10 year old boy to a carnival or the fair. We have so much fun and we can never pass by the Snow Cone Machine. Driving through town, if a carnival begins to set up which was previously unknown to us, the wheels are immediately turning. When the time will be available, how early can we get there, how long it will take to sample every ride, game, or specialty food that might be available? Do the rides look scary enough to suit the thirst for excitement found within my young son? He does love adventure. If he sees it first he is already asking for snow cones. He does not say the carnival is in town. He says, We are going to get snow cones. He understands I know that means carnival time.
A magical time is always at the carnival. We spend quality time each time another comes to town. We walk and relax with each other and always in these times of relationship building the subject will touch upon a serious subject. He never realizes I am aware of the depth of the issue. Without these times of simple pleasures I would never know either. I am sure to take advantage of these communication opportunities, after all, since the snow cone/ride incident we walk until he finishes, perfect time to hear how he really feels about his lifes trial and tribulations.
Previously mentioned, his favorite thing is the Snow Cone Machine. He loves snow cones and he must have every color and flavor that they offer on the same cone. The multi-color snow cone is a desire for that boy that is unmatched. Every time I pass another snow cone machine he asks for another snow cone with all the colors available. He just cannot get enough!
A magical time is always at the carnival. We spend quality time each time another comes to town. We walk and relax with each other and always in these times of relationship building the subject will touch upon a serious subject. He never realizes I am aware of the depth of the issue. Without these times of simple pleasures I would never know either. I am sure to take advantage of these communication opportunities, after all, since the snow cone/ride incident we walk until he finishes, perfect time to hear how he really feels about his lifes trial and tribulations.
Previously mentioned, his favorite thing is the Snow Cone Machine. He loves snow cones and he must have every color and flavor that they offer on the same cone. The multi-color snow cone is a desire for that boy that is unmatched. Every time I pass another snow cone machine he asks for another snow cone with all the colors available. He just cannot get enough!
He is thrilled with the scary rides, also. The zipper comes to mind. That ride scares me. He just loves it. The ride hurling us through the air and the car spinning us in various directions he just laughs and laughs. As the ride slows he is already asking to do it again. I find an excuse to find another direction, What about the bumper cars? That always works. What kid does not want to drive a car and slam into his father? Of course, I always let him beat me up, like a good dad should.
At the county fairs local law enforcement always are present. He loves the police, and there dogs. Patrol cars to look inside of, high tech today, are always interesting to him. We visited one where the dog attacked a trainer, powerful jaws clamping upon the protective suit as the beast drug the man to the ground. Impressive as it was to me, he was looking for the snow cone machine.
The idea must be making itself apparent. The kid is snow cone crazy. Since the age of three, when I allowed him his first I have never been able to pass a Snow Cone Machine. They have been deposited in unsuspecting police cars (oops), I have worn them on the zipper (mentioned earlier, I mean everywhere), and always he shows the signs, with stained lips and tongue of the guilty pleasure of his young life. The snow cone machine steals the show every time.
At the county fairs local law enforcement always are present. He loves the police, and there dogs. Patrol cars to look inside of, high tech today, are always interesting to him. We visited one where the dog attacked a trainer, powerful jaws clamping upon the protective suit as the beast drug the man to the ground. Impressive as it was to me, he was looking for the snow cone machine.
The idea must be making itself apparent. The kid is snow cone crazy. Since the age of three, when I allowed him his first I have never been able to pass a Snow Cone Machine. They have been deposited in unsuspecting police cars (oops), I have worn them on the zipper (mentioned earlier, I mean everywhere), and always he shows the signs, with stained lips and tongue of the guilty pleasure of his young life. The snow cone machine steals the show every time.
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