Last night, after being turned away at the movie theater door because Brave was sold out, I racked my brain for how to ease the crushing disappointment for Cricket (everything is a big deal when you're 6). Being summer in Kentucky, and in a very Catholic part of town, little festivals are popping up nearly every weekend through July. So, we decided to hit one near the airport where the Dungeon Master and I worked and first met. I wish I could describe the delighted squeal that came charging out of her mouth when we rounded the corner and she saw all the spinning rides and blinking lights. "Memmy, we go dere? You tate me dere?!!!"
Homegirl was in heaven.
The night was perfection: dance contests, pony rides (where she was so very brave), ferris wheels, free ice cream (for winning the dance contest), bumper cars, and getting a cool prize when her strong daddy swung the mallet and nearly broke the bell... that last one might be an exaggeration, but that's how I'm choosing to remember it. And I want Cricket to remember it, too. I want her memories full of summer nights of such unwavering, joyful perfection.
Here's to many more :)