The Painted Ponies Go Up and Down

I didn’t want to go to the carnival last night. It was cool and very cloudy, with a strong breeze. But even though she knew we’d go tonight when the weather would be much better, she wanted to go. Carnivals are her thing in the summer.

It was far more crowded than I expected given the weather conditions, but those unlimited ride tickets tend to draw great shrieking flocks of tweens who want the bracelet without doing the math (it takes a lot of rides to make those bracelets worth the price and the lines were long enough to make breaking even doubtful). But I grit (gritted?) my teeth, found my bank’s nearest drive-through ATM and a parking spot a block away, and Angelic Daughter and I walked over to the fair.

$28 dollars later, Angelic Daughter had “won” a stuffed puppy ($10, everyone gets a prize!), fired a squirt gun at a target without winning a prize (another $10), and clutched that stuffed puppy through a ride on the carousel ($4 apiece), with the painted ponies going up and down.

I went with her, and it was a blast. As soon as the ride began circling and the horses on their poles started their rise and fall, I was laughing and smiling, and for those few moments, I was free: looking at Angelic Daughter next to me on her carousel steed, I let go of all my worries and leaned into the love and the unexpected joy of just going up and down, round and round.

The weather didn’t matter, and it didn’t matter that we were the only adults riding the carousel. Other parents were standing outside the little fence that circled the ride, smiling and taking videos of their kiddos, with some dads valiantly standing aboard, behind or alongside their little ones, ready to reassure them as their painted steeds went round and round.

It was noisy, and with the wind being as strong as it was, I wasn’t comfortable going on the Ferris Wheel (another $14 for the two of us). I’m not good with heights, and I have a lot of OCD exaggerated, unreasonable fears about carnival rides. For two other carnivals this summer I have enlisted a paid companion or my brother to ride the Ferris Wheel with Angelic Daughter.

The line for food was ridiculously long and we’d already eaten anyway, but after we got home I ran out and bought some frozen mini-ice cream cones as consolation, and I promised a return to the carnival tonight.

And tonight I’ll get on that Ferris Wheel with her, because a few minutes of laughter and joy with Angelic Daughter are worth the queasy sensation you get when you go over the top and down, and whoosh under backwards before you go up again. If it’s too high at the top I can just close my eyes for a moment.

We’ll get there early enough to eat hot dogs, corn on the cob, and maybe an Elephant Ear dusted with confectioners sugar, and I won’t feel guilty about that at all.

You never know how many more times your seasons will go round and round, and at my age, I’ve decided it’s important to let go of the tyranny of the scale and the strictures of “healthy eating” every once in a while to just freaking enjoy myself. Angelic Daughter deserves some time with me that isn’t suffused with my vibe of constant worry. She’s anxious enough on her own. But sweet treats have a remarkably soothing effect, so maybe we’ll even have an ice cream sundae tonight, too!

Until then, I remain,

your yes-I-worked-out-this-morning-less-out-of-guilt-than-out-of-a-need-to-encourage-sore-muscles-to-heal-after-my-last-workout, looking-forward-to-some-more-summertime-self-indulgence-tonight-before-reverting-to-healthier-habits-so-I-can-live-to-see-several-more-summers-of-carnivals-and-corn,

Ridiculouswoman