Prior to the mysterious illness that hit our home we all schlepped out to the Asian festival. It was oh. my. god. hot but I loaded us up with water and snacks and sunscreen and headed out. We parked down the street from the park and had the pleasure of riding a large, hot school bus into the festival. Which may not sound like fun to you, but add in a very heavy cooler and a large unwieldy stroller, oh, and two young boys excited about riding a big yellow bus and you've got yourself a par-tay.
We saw martial arts demonstrations. We saw Japanese dancers. We ate Thai lettuce wraps and Chinese noodles. We drank bubble tea. We played Asian children's games and listened to Chinese music. We tried on traditional Chinese costumes. We got our Asian on, so to speak.
|showing off the dragon he made!|
As we rode the big yellow school bus back to our car I could hear my big five year old a few rows back chattering away to my husband. The tiny toddler sat on my lap in the front seat, pretending to drive the bus. I sat there, hot, sweaty, tired, thirsty, holding the stroller with my elbow to prevent it from falling over and bonking my son on the head. I closed my eyes and could hear the Chinese couple speaking Mandarin in the seat next to me. I could hear my oldest son a few rows back. I could feel my little guy moving around on my lap as he pretended to drive the big bus. And I was proud. Another successful outing with my little family. No one got lost. No one got hurt. No one cried. Everyone got fed. And we helped the big five year old celebrate his birth country. A very proud mommy moment, for sure.
Later, after we were all strapped into the car and heading home I asked my boys what their favorite part of the Asian festival was. The tiny toddler yelled, "BUS!" and the big five year old said, "My favorite part was that little nap I took on the bus on the way back to the car. It was a GREAT nap!"
Alrighty then. I think they may have missed the point...