JUBILEE!!!
I attended my first Liberty Jubilee festival yesterday. Liberty is the small Texas town where I work. 'Festival' is defined in Webster's Dictionary as " a thinly veiled attempt by merchants to acquire your money." And Jubilee just means you eat way too much.
I personally consumed a gi-normous pile of freshly sliced, deep-fried potatos covered in bucket cheese, liquid sour cream, and artificial bacon bits, generously doused with salt. For protein, I had a foot-long, and almost as wide, slab of greasy teriyaki grilled chicken on a stick covered in what amounted to be watery maple syrup. And to balance it out, a mountain of fried mushrooms with full fat ranch dressing on the side for dipping. Good thing I stuck with Diet Coke.
My 8 year-old son was not looking so well. He'd been feeling kind of puny from the time we got there. After waiting for about 45 minutes in the direct heat of the sun to get his face painted, he finally made it to the front of the line. I was in the hair painting line with his delightful 5 year-old sister who was happily telling everyone within ear-shot how Mommy squeezes her pimples and how gushy her belly is since she had so many babies, when suddenly kids started to scatter like cockroaches in the sunlight. I looked over to see Joseph quietly throwing up on the ground right in front of the face painting stand. Poor kid. The face painting lady didn't even miss a beat. She handed me a spray water bottle and a roll of paper towels, sat him down in the chair, and painted his face. I was left to deal with the aftermath. Gushy belly and all.
We ended up staying about fours hours, spending entirely too much money, and laying a solid foundation for future cardiac episodes.
These are the memories we cherish.
I personally consumed a gi-normous pile of freshly sliced, deep-fried potatos covered in bucket cheese, liquid sour cream, and artificial bacon bits, generously doused with salt. For protein, I had a foot-long, and almost as wide, slab of greasy teriyaki grilled chicken on a stick covered in what amounted to be watery maple syrup. And to balance it out, a mountain of fried mushrooms with full fat ranch dressing on the side for dipping. Good thing I stuck with Diet Coke.
My 8 year-old son was not looking so well. He'd been feeling kind of puny from the time we got there. After waiting for about 45 minutes in the direct heat of the sun to get his face painted, he finally made it to the front of the line. I was in the hair painting line with his delightful 5 year-old sister who was happily telling everyone within ear-shot how Mommy squeezes her pimples and how gushy her belly is since she had so many babies, when suddenly kids started to scatter like cockroaches in the sunlight. I looked over to see Joseph quietly throwing up on the ground right in front of the face painting stand. Poor kid. The face painting lady didn't even miss a beat. She handed me a spray water bottle and a roll of paper towels, sat him down in the chair, and painted his face. I was left to deal with the aftermath. Gushy belly and all.
We ended up staying about fours hours, spending entirely too much money, and laying a solid foundation for future cardiac episodes.
These are the memories we cherish.
posted by Cas at 8:47 PM
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