To the Renaissance Festival!

This evening, our family will be heading to my Mom's house...actually my Grandpa's, but I digress. We're heading down to my Mom's house, as a belated birthday gift to my Mom. Adrien and I were supposed to travel there a few weeks ago, but I had the stomach problem and Adrien had the upper respiratory/double ear infection problem. Needless to say, neither of us was in the best of shape to be up for a four hour car trip.

Yes, you read right: four hours. I don't live in one of those tiny New England states whereby it takes only a few hours to cross the entire state. Oh no. I live in Texas. You could drive for 10 hours and still be in Texas. It's expansive. The second largest state. I digress, again.

So anyway, we're gonna saddle up and head for my Mom's house so that we can go to the Renaissance Festival tomorrow. It's very exciting for me. Up until I was 19, I was able to say that I'd been to this festival every year since I'd been born. My parents loved this place, and took me accordingly. When I was younger, I'd get all excited to go and I even saved up my allowance so I could buy a costume to wear. I love it there -- the gynormous turkey legs, the merriment, the costumes, the shows. All of it. It's also safe to say that my childhood trips to this place are some of the only happy memories I have of my parents when they were still together. Even still, after my parents divorced, I was still taken every year...generally either by one parent or the other, or on the happy occasion that I'd get to go twice that year; once with each parent. Maybe that's part of the reason I cherish this place so. Happy memories from my childhood are not abundant.

I remember waking up early one morning when I was five or so and springing into my parents bedroom to wake them up. Let's go to the Renaissance Festival, I begged. I really wanted to go. My parents tried to explain to me that it wasn't yet the time of year for the festival, and alas, I'd have to wait. I remember pleading with them that I'd pay for the whole thing, so long as we could go. I even remember getting my piggy bank -- it was full of pennies, of course. Yes, I loved this place then, and still do a great deal.

I supposed it's the magic of it all. As a child, you see the fairies in their costumes, and to you, they're real. You see the jousting tournament taking place and get caught up in the action. I'm sure I wanted to be the Princess the knights were jousting for...and to me, the Princess wasn't an actress in a costume: She was real. I think I've always felt as though I don't belong in this modern age. The Renaissance Festival was the perfect place for me to pretend (just for a day) that I wasn't in this day and time. It was an escape from reality, and I always hated to leave at the end of the day...but even Cinderella's magic wore off eventually, and she was forced back to her reality. After I'd gone each year, I remember hardly being able to wait for the next. And the next year came, the excitement and revelry were there again...no matter how fleeting the day was. For that one day I was at the Renaissance Festival took me out of whatever crap I was really having to deal with back in the real world. Just as I thought as a young child that I wasn't cut out for this modern society, I knew entirely too much about what went on in the lives of adults. The Renaissance Festival was my place to be a kid. No wonder I wanted it all the time.

I still see this place as magical. Even now, I can't wait to enter the gates there tomorrow, because it remains mostly the same as it was in my childhood. I remember all of the excitement and magic, and now I can't wait to share that with Adrien. I've told him about all the dragons and fairies he'll see there...all the fun he'll have. I know he doesn't have the slightest clue what I'm talking about, but I can't wait to share this wonderful childhood experience with him.

I hope it's as magical a journey to him as it is to me.