Is there anything better than a Saturday? We can sleep in! We have the whole day to do… whatever! But if you are Otto, the only thing that’s better than a random Saturday is the Saturday when the Camper and RV show is in town. Woooooo!
Um. What? You don’t get all excited for the Camper and RV show? It’s EXCITING!
[Full disclosure: It is not terribly (read: at all) exciting to me. But it is VERY exciting to Otto, and generally the kids enjoy it as well. Fancy campers have a variety of interesting things inside of them, and that's in addition to the number of small spaces where one determined Monkey-child might wedge himself and then holler "I BET YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE I AM!" Also, it's an entire expo thing, which means there's food. And one of the booths there sells CAKE! A slice is as big as a child's head. I know some children who really enjoy cake. Me, I really enjoy Otto. I don't think I'd ever, say, head to the Camper and RV show all on my own, but I am happy to go to make Otto happy, and also because he is adorable when he sees something he finds intriguing.]
So! We got up! We ate breakfast! We made ourselves presentable and then we got in the car and headed Atlantaward. “How long will it take to get there?” asked Monkey.
“About an hour,” answered Otto, and that’s when the ominous, foreshadowing music would’ve started up, if only we hadn’t been busy listening to “Wait Wait… Don’t Tell Me!”
It’s a beautiful day, today. The drive was pleasant. It wasn’t until we started getting close that things seemed to be… well… taking longer than they should. We finally made it to our highway exist and sat on the ramp for—I am NOT exaggerating this part—SIX cycles of the light before we actually made it off the highway.
“Huh,” said Otto. “I wonder what’s going on? I hope this isn’t traffic for the camping show.” And then we laughed—OH HOW WE LAUGHED—because, c’mon now. Surely not. It’s just a camping show, not a rock concert. As we sat there waiting, I noticed flashing lights in the distance.
“Look, there’s cop cars. Probably there’s an accident up there.” Otto nodded. We continued inching our way forward.
Well, guess what. Not an accident! Just lots of cop cars to direct traffic… around the camping show entrance. Huh. We’ve been going to this show for years and neither of us could recall seeing any sort of extra traffic guidance or anything. Weird.
We finally made it through and turned into the giant parking lot, only to see that there was a thick crowd of people waiting to get into the hall, and the line wound all the way around the (giant) building, AND the line wasn’t moving. Ohhhhh. Crap.
Otto has been talking about going to the camping show for WEEKS. And Otto took one look at that line and said, “Yeah, no. I don’t think this is a good idea. I think we’re not going to the show.”
By this time we’d been in the car for nearly two hours. And just yesterday Monkey had Very Exciting Plans which were canceled at the last minute because his friends ended up being sick, so I braced for hellfire and brimstone and wailing about how he never! ever! gets to do what he thought he was going to do. And while I braced I suggested we go eat lunch at our favorite Atlanta diner, while we were in the neighborhood.
“Oh, YUM,” said Monkey. “That’s a good idea!” And that was the extent of his crushing disappointment. Sure, I was surprised, but I am not in the habit of looking gift horses in the mouth. We just went with it, and went all the way to letting him have french toast and bacon for lunch, because why not? That is JUST LIKE going to the camper show.
No, it was Otto who was disappointed, and that was sad, because the fact of the matter is that Otto asks for very little, and he had really REALLY been looking forward to going to the show. We have no idea why it was so crowded this year, either. It seems unlikely that in this economy there’s suddenly a huge demand for campers. Maybe word got out about the cake? I think that must be it.
So we had lunch and headed home, stopping once at a TJ Maxx, because yes, we have a local TJ Maxx, but this was a different one, and I need some black pants, and maybe THIS OTHER ONE will have different stuff. Spoiler: I did not find any pants there. I did, however, pretend to become very interested in whatever rack of clothing was closest to me every single time Monkey said, “ARE YOU DONE YET?” It never got old to watch him do a whole-body “UUUUUUUUGH” every time he thought that maybe we were never leaving. Oh, you thought you were going to look at cool campers and eat cake, today? SURPRISE! PANTS SHOPPING!!
Then we came home. And then I got back in the car and went to do MORE pants shopping, because, you know, I hadn’t found any pants. I went to three different stores and tried on TWENTY-THREE more pairs of pants, and I bought none of them. Because none of them fit right. Because I am apparently some sort of grotesque alien. Because when you skip the Camper and RV show, BAD THINGS HAPPEN.
By the time Otto was texting to me ask if I was lost, the sun was setting and I had managed to accomplish exactly nothing for the whole damn day. So I came home and made dinner, because at least that felt like I was doing something meaningful. (Licorice assured me that it was very meaningful. She also assured me that it would be MORE meaningful if I scraped my plate directly into her mouth.)
In conclusion: I would like my Saturday back. In lieu of that, please remit a camper more expensive than our house for Otto to explore, and a pair of black pants for me that
don’t make my thighs look like rotting sausages fit. I really didn’t think that was so much to ask for, but today disagreed.