"Battle of the Fairgrounds"

So we were at the fair for 11 hours Thursday. Yup, 11 hours. (I told you I love the fair!) Now let me say right off that DD can hike for 5 miles, but she ain't gonna walk around the fair for 11 hours like her crazy parents. So our solution to that is we have this large wagon we bought when she first outgrew her stroller, and even though she's 9, she still fits in it no problem, and I tow her around the fair. It works out well because we get to do and see all we want WITHOUT all the complaining. I'm pretty good with that thing too - dodging and navigating through crowded buildings, in between strollers, scooters and cowpies, over curbs, grass and peanut shells - I've had years of practice. I'm telling ya, if you see me barreling along with my big red wagon - LOOK OUT!

So I bump into an acquaintance of mine from high school and as we're blah-blah-blah-ing about boring stupid stuff that I really don't care about, I notice that she's got this pretty kick-butt stroller - it's got big 'ol monster truck lookin' wheels and it's a cool orange color. This thing looks like you could run up mountains with it (or take it on a 5 mile hike on a whim, ha ha), so I asked her about it. It's called a Bob stroller and she proudly informs me it's the stroller of choice for the Ironman Triathalon. She proceeds to tell me how great it is for jogging, and how she likes to jog 5 miles a day, yada, yada, I think I fazed out at this point.

So I'm standing there with my wagon wondering if I could take her stroller on, or what. I could call it, "Battle of the Fairgrounds". We could race from one end of the fair to the other, having to complete challenges along the way like: get in line and buy zeppoles, make a restroom stop, run through a cow barn without hitting any pies, and make a pass through the crowded bleachers during dog agility competitions...

The thing that worried me is the stroller had a swiveling front wheel which I knew would enable her to make sharp turns. The wagon, on the other hand, has the steering radius of a battleship. (Kinda like my truck, heh.) However, what I'd lack in speed and agility I think I could make up in force and intimidation - I mean I've got 50 lbs. of DD rolling along in my big, red, plastic tank on wheels...and I am, after all, "strong like bull" (you have to say that with a Hungarian accent).

In the end I decided not to challenge her.

So we said our goodbyes and she jogged off with her sleek stroller and I huffed and puffed my way over to Millie's. She's just LUCKY I was hungry and was more interested in getting pierogies than racing. (Oh they're SO good - you get a plate of three - I get the potato and cheese, cheese, and cabbage.)

But I'll be there - lurking around every sausage and peppers wagon, behind every giant pumpkin, watching you, Bob-stroller-girl!