Pre-"Taste" Jitters
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O.K., I'll admit it. I've lived in the Chicago area my entire life and I've never been to the Taste of Chicago. But with two children gone (see below) I wanted to do something fun with the one who was left behind.
The whole thing kind of freaks me out, to tell you the truth. Here's what I picture:
- lots of rather large men with beer bellies drinking, well . . . beer!
- same said men eating polish sausage until they look like they themselves are about to pop out of their casings.
- skin, lots and lots of skin. Makes mine want to crawl.
- Crowds. I don't do well with them. I had enough of crowds for the rest of my life on the Paris Metro this spring.
- Port-a-potties. Or Honey Buckets. Or Drop Zones. Whatever you like to call them, I just don't do them. I refuse. Could be interesting.
- Deep fat frying. I love the smell, but I don't like what it does to my already mid-life, flabby arms. I picture myself floating home like the marshmallow puff guy in "Ghostbusters" or the Bob's Big Boy balloon from "Austin Powers." That'll be me--Wildmom, as big as a house, floating on strings to get home.
So I'm picturing a crowded day of people from all sorts of walks of life bumping into me and eating like pigs. An adventure will be had, that's for sure!
The whole thing kind of freaks me out, to tell you the truth. Here's what I picture:
- lots of rather large men with beer bellies drinking, well . . . beer!
- same said men eating polish sausage until they look like they themselves are about to pop out of their casings.
- skin, lots and lots of skin. Makes mine want to crawl.
- Crowds. I don't do well with them. I had enough of crowds for the rest of my life on the Paris Metro this spring.
- Port-a-potties. Or Honey Buckets. Or Drop Zones. Whatever you like to call them, I just don't do them. I refuse. Could be interesting.
- Deep fat frying. I love the smell, but I don't like what it does to my already mid-life, flabby arms. I picture myself floating home like the marshmallow puff guy in "Ghostbusters" or the Bob's Big Boy balloon from "Austin Powers." That'll be me--Wildmom, as big as a house, floating on strings to get home.
So I'm picturing a crowded day of people from all sorts of walks of life bumping into me and eating like pigs. An adventure will be had, that's for sure!
