Working on the weekends is not usually my idea of fun. After being cooped up in an office for 40-60 hours a week, I’m ready to stretch my legs and run (well, not literally—you don’t want to see what that looks like). Occasionally, though, my company needs me to sacrifice my weekends to meet up with a very important author, travel to far away lands, negotiate world peace, or—in this case—go to Minnesota to sell books to homeschoolers. While my company has been a part of this community for a couple years, this was my first foray into home-based education. And I think it’s safe to say…
I HAD NO IDEA.
It wasn’t a large convention, but the aisles were packed with parents and kids of all ages—some children who appeared only days old and were slumped in what looked like dreadfully uncomfortable sling-like contraptions around their parents shoulders. I saw many different religious associations (ranging from Mennonite moms to Catholic priests) and a variety of clothing styles, some of them dating back to the early 90s (ankle-length skirts, lacey shalls, layered socks, and what I call the butt braid—braided hair that is woven so tight and so long that it finally ends at butt-height). BTW, when DID tassels go out of style and why? Clothing and a toy all wrapped into one—it doesn’t get any more entertaining than that!
But I digress…
The point is, it only took a matter of seconds for me to be inundated with hundreds of products, hundreds of parents… and hundreds of children. Two things became immediately clear:
1. I was going to have fun blogging about this, and
2. I was about to get a very large headache
You see, kids and Cat don’t usually mix very well. It’s not that I don’t like them. It’s just that I get a distinct feeling that they don’t like me. They frown when I make funny faces or cry when I try to get them to laugh—basically the exact opposite of my intent. My little sister has made a living out of caring for kiddos, but they just aren’t my forte.
I needed to make a quick decision. Wait until the screaming gave me the migraine of the century… or join the screaming and give said migraine to the parentals. It was a genius plan: set out to have the loudest, most entertaining day possible.
-First, I asked Elijah, the son of a nearby exhibitor, to help me build Noah’s Giant Floor Puzzle. We loudly voiced all the animal noises as the puzzle came together, much to the pleasure (or dismay?) of passers by.
-Later he and I built Noah’s Fantastic Boat (you’d be surprised how many Noah products are marketed in Christian retail these days)
-I challenged another boy to a game of Pilgrim’s Progress, which proved to be a bad idea after the third time I got sent back to the City of Destruction.
-I made up for my loss by participating in a science experiment across the aisle where dozens of kids laughed when they saw what happened to my hair when I touched a friction energy converter (No, I will NOT post pictures).
-After being scolded by the crotchety Grandma exhibiting next to me, I recruited a few kids to variously and occasionally bring her Tootsie Rolls. By mid-afternoon, she had received and eaten so much sugar, that she was all smiles (I think my cohorts may have snuck a few for themselves as well).
-I asked a few homeschooling mamas to watch my booth (a quick shout out to them—thanks Marla, Londa, Glenda, and Reatha) while I rooted for my buddy Elijah in the INDOOR Civil War reenactment, complete with canon firing. Yes, I said INDOOR.
-Later in the afternoon, I challenged a tired little boy to a sword fight using swords made of blown-up Diaper Jeenie bags. I lost, but he got a new burst of energy and ran around yelling ON GUARD!
-When a man walked by carrying—but not leaning on—a set of crutches, I jumped in front of him and yelled IT’S A MIRACLE! HE CAN WALK! (Turns out the crutches belonged to his wife who was propped against a check-out counter a few feet behind him).
-Perhaps the highlight of my day was when I snuck around the corner to find 2 of my new grade school friends kissing. Yes… kissing! Caught in the act, they jumped back and awkwardly stammered an excuse… they were discussing politics. I nodded my approval and stifled my laughter until I was safely back in my booth.
-Realizing this might be the social event of the year for some of those families, I started winking at a few of the shy teenage boys who trailed their moms through the aisles and even… gasp… showed some teeth to the other boys who wandered about on their own. Heaven forbid a woman should smile at them!
Oh what have I done?
Exhausted but migraine averted, I trudged into my hotel room that night satisfied with a long day’s work. I had survived… and given a few teenage boys something to talk about for a while—at least until next year’s convention.
What WILL that be like? Dare I even wonder?
