RODEO!

by Phil

In my previous post, I ended by pointing out my son's overwhelming cuteness factor. I called attention to how adorable he is. These weren't bold claims. It was (and is) obvious to all who look at him. (Can you tell that I love this kid?)

Awwwwwww. Smiley and cute. That's how he typically looks. Remember that because, from here on out, things get angry.

My wife and I often joke that we have somehow sired a bloodsucking maven of the night. A child nosferatu. A vampyre, if you will. He hates the sun. As much life that the sun bestows on earth, my son wishes it's demise in equal measure. Whenever we step outside on a sunny day, he starts squinting like a drunken pirate while making unhappy grunting sounds. It doesn't matter if we've thrown a blanket over him or not. Sun is getting in and he's not enjoy it.

So when we decided to go to the Rodeo for the first time ever and the weather was overcast, we figured the day would be perfect. The kid likes overcast days.

What we weren't counting on, however, was every other factor in the world conspiring against my son's happiness and, by extension, my wife and I. As soon as we got through the entrance gate, he started getting kind of grumpy.

Proof?

Here you go.

Now, that's a 30 foot (or so) inflatable cow behind him. And it's wearing sunglasses. That inflatable cow thinks it's people. How can you make that face in the presence of that cow?

So we decide to push through. He'll settle down. He's an easy going baby that goes through most events with barely a complaint. This is going to be okay. Right?

Wrong. Here he is in the stands.

At this point, I'm having a grand old time but the kid is not. And when the infant isn't happy, no one is allowed to have a grand old time.

Maybe he's making some sort of moral decision about rodeos. Maybe he's some sort of elitist snob looking down on the sport of the hoi polloi. I sure hope not. It's going to be a long life if he's already acting too good for stuff at seven months old. I didn't father no bourgeois hipster.

It was actually a confluence of several factors that I think led to this result. We folks in the stands were being buffeted by some pretty nasty winds. Then there were the loud speakers that the announcers were yelling over excitedly whenever anything happened. And I mean anything. A rider have a good ride? An excited yell! A rider fall off quickly? An excited yell! And in between each yell, the activity was punctuated by pulsing music. Add to that the cheers from the crowd every few seconds.

All this little kid knows is he's sitting in the wind (which was much worse than the blow dryer from my last post), among a large group of people who keep screaming for some reason. He really didn't care or know about what was happening with the animals.

When he wasn't in the stands but was just wandering around the vendors' area, he was almost his normal happy self. So my wife and I had to keep taking shifts. One of us would watch some rodeo while the other meandered the grounds with the boy. Then we'd switch.

We stayed for all of the kid competition (you haven't lived until you've seen a 4-year old ride a sheep) and a few of the men's events. Eventually, though, he gave us this look that said "Get me out of here now." Like any good parent, we took a picture of it!

So the rodeo was pretty cool. Being there, I can easily understand how people can get into it. I'd never want to watch it on tv or participate in any way but it was fun to sit in the stands and be a part of the cheering crowd. My son, though, may just hate it forever. Later in life, he's going to have some untraceable rage whenever he sees a bucking horse. Whatever. Scarring children for therapists to fix later is the job of every successful parent.