Mmmmm...Brats....

BratFest 2007-- a rockin good time.



Well, maybe not "rockin," since we showed up an hour before the entertainment started and had to make do with hearing that wretched "Strawberry Wine" song about sixteen times in a row over the PA system. Really loud. And also not rockin because there was a smelly old horse show (not the official name) running with Sunday's Fest, and Ben found a shortcut to the brats through the horse stalls. Our new catchphrase is, "That's horse shit," which has remained funny for over 24 hours and will probably make an appearance in Harry's limited vocabulary. It's actually fortuitous that we missed the entertainment because as we were making our way back to the car ("That's horse shit!"), a family with like 7 kids (oh my god-- how did that happen?) asked us if they were going the right way and if we knew a shortcut (did we ever) because their daughter's class was dancing on the main stage in like 20 minutes.

This guy's hair is sooo awesome. No, you're right. That's horse shit.


Harry couldn't have a brat because he might choke.



Also, Harry broke his dancing devil, the one that used to sing "Hot, Hot, Hot," and now just sputters "H-H-H" because after his grandma taught him to dance, he literally danced until satan dropped. Dad-- got anymore of those at the store? Harry'd really like to shake his groove thang again.

And Harry's grandma and grandpa came to visit, and we forgot to take pictures. We were distracted by me knocking a giant Pepsi onto Harry's grandma's lap (sorry!) and by Harry taking 3 steps from me to his gram-- awesome, huh?-- but still no excuse. We promise pictures next time.