I'm only half joking.
We went to the flea market yesterday. It's technically not a "great" flea market. It is one of the 'all year round' ones, with stalls inside long barn looking buildings with over priced, used, and mostly dirty crap.
In summer they let people come in and sell stuff in the parking lot for a fee.
Usually, over priced, used, and mostly dirty crap.
The reason we chose this one as opposed to say, the Goodwill store (which is much classier), is because they have awesome food vendors and live music every weekend. It's nice to get in a long walk, roll our eyes at the guy who wants $300 for a broken gun and $2 for a McDonald's toy, and occasionally pick up a $2 pair of Ray-bans.
Except this weekend they didn't have a live band. They had....drum roll please!
With a real black leather ring and ropes cooking right there on the asphalt. There were wrestlers (or wrastlers, depends on whose speakin') talking trash just like on tv.
The only criteria I could see for actually being a flea market wrestler was tattoos, oh and tights. Not just one or two tattoos will do, nope, one must have an abundance. Oh, and muscles everywhere except the belly; which must be large and floppy and is accentuated best with skin tight latex pants all working to achieve a "Better Smack Down"....or at least the real live manager (dressed in blue polyester and $2 sun glasses like MINE) assured the crowd. (Which really wasn't a crowd so much as a bunch of people eating steak sandwiches, homemade ice cream, and french fries cut and fried on the spot.)
No one seemed to see the irony of the two big white guys weighing an admitted 280 pounds each, swastika tattoos on the back of their necks, throwing a little black man who is "a five foot seven monster," (Yeah that's a quote bebe.) ..and weighed maybe 150 soaking wet....around the ring while an all white crowd watched and some offered up a mouth-full-of-food holler or two every now and again, between shouts of "YOU SUCK!"
Hunter was embarrassed for them.
Gavin said he kinda liked it, could he have more french fries please?
When we left, I dropped my empty cup and my sunglasses in the garbage can, lest someone think ME a high power, money making, over priced, used and mostly dirty flea market wrastlin' manager.
That's just one of our little mini adventures....
Gavin wakes up everyday and says, "SO! What fun are we going to do today?"
That's a hard order to fill some days.
We are non-stop since the kids got out of school. And since I, great mom that I am, usually forget the camera...I wanted to share the few photos we do have...the first few you've seen before...but it all ties in....
At this rate I plan to be dead, or crazy (er) by end of summer.