Field Day

Friday was Field Day. 10:45-2:45 we were outside with games ranging from hula hoops to inflatable water slides. I am not complaining. This is my forte. If you know me, you know that this type of event is totally my element. What's not to love? I'm outside, with a ton of shrieking kids, playing games -- even WATER games!!! -- and having a blast.

Too. Much. Fun.

I enjoyed myself immensely. Sweat and all. Except for the fact that I had Bruiser attached to me for over half of the day.

A crying Bruiser.

A fussy Bruiser.

A Bruiser who kept asking when we were going to Harp's. To buy ice cream. To make milkshakes. (Family nights are FUN.)

The inflatables won HANDS DOWN as favorite of the day.


I was just sure that cotton candy would make the ultimate sweet eater happy.
It didn't.


Pretty good form, right? Oh, bless his heart.

BIG water slide. I have multiple pictures of his turns down this slide.

All have this exact pose & facial expression.

His team won at this game. Twice.

Bruiser finally decided to go thru the inflatable maze/slide with Bubba.

Unfortunately he wouldn't allow photo opps.

Finally, I won out.

Of course, the element of surprise is also a wonderful thing.

My sweet little Bubba is always so accomodating to his mother's incessant photo requests.

See?

I stupidly followed the rules and sent my child in dress code, per the school's request. Most kids were in flip flops. Bubba was squishing around in tennis shoes AND socks. After working the hula hoops for an hour -- yes, an hour of hooping hulas -- I drove home and grabbed some flip flops.

Only later to discover a pair in the car, but I digress....

This is when I had to bring Bruiser back with me. He thought I was home to pick him up and take him to Harp's. For ice cream. Like I had promised. For our Family Night milkshakes. Field Day was sloppy seconds compared to that. But he took me up on it anyway.

Only to ask me every 12.3 seconds when we were leaving to go to Harp's.

Bubba never wore the flip flops.

Not even once.

The last hour of Field Day I had to work the parachute booth. Bruiser was run over by a 3rd grader. It was traumatic. His popcorn was scattered. And his nose was bloodied.

But the last 15 minutes of the day I was finally forgiven for dragging him to this forsaken big kid land where he wasn't allowed my undivided attention. He came to terms with spending 3 hours at Field Day.

What's not to love about a big bounce around?