![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
.
.
A couple weeks ago, I discovered that I live 13.4 miles from entrance to one of the largest Renaissance Festival in the United States. I knew that I lived pretty close, but I haven't actually gone to the Texas Renaissance Festival since I bought my house so I didn't realize exactly how close I lived to it.
They have a garden on the grounds that exists for the soul purpose of providing photo opportunities. With a 4-year-old boy in tow destined to star in a calendar that I needed to print for his maternal grandfather and his paternal grandmother (the only two grandparents he has left) in time for Christmas, I took advantage of these prefab ops and scored not only my calendar cover photo, but the pictures for 4 other months as well.
As a mother, you'd think the last thing I would want is a picture of my son standing next to a topless woman. When the woman is a mermaid, though, somehow it doesn't seem so bad.
They also have two benches carved to look like dragons. The benches are huge; you could probably fit the whole Duggar family on one of them if you wanted to and they were so inclined. My son seems to be negotiating with the dragon and talking him into a ride in one photo.
In the next, the dragon seems to have agreed to be ridden, and so my son had taken hold of his ears and is smiling in triumph.
The smaller gold dragon in the Asian garden are not meant to be ridden, but try explaining that to a 4 year old. I have trained my son to say "ice cream" instead of "cheese" when I want to take his picture. He likes cheese, but he loves ice cream. When he says "cheese," his smile is cheesy. When he says "ice cream" he breaks out in the blissful smile of a lover speaking the name of his beloved. I had my back turned to him looking at another sculpture when I heard him say "Ice cream!" and turned around to snap one shot before explaining to him that he needed to get off of the little dragon.
"Why?" he asked
"Because you might break him."
"But I'm being careful."
I finally prevailed, but if anyone connected to the TRF happens to see this picture and wants to complain that the exhibit is for looking and not touching, I agree and will willingly submit to a lecture.
So, for those of you who need a face to picture when I talk about my Sweet Pea, now you have it. I'm hoping the grandparents enjoy their calendars, and appreciate the effort of wrangling and taming dragons I had to do in order to make it for them.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
.
.
A couple weeks ago, I discovered that I live 13.4 miles from entrance to one of the largest Renaissance Festival in the United States. I knew that I lived pretty close, but I haven't actually gone to the Texas Renaissance Festival since I bought my house so I didn't realize exactly how close I lived to it.
They have a garden on the grounds that exists for the soul purpose of providing photo opportunities. With a 4-year-old boy in tow destined to star in a calendar that I needed to print for his maternal grandfather and his paternal grandmother (the only two grandparents he has left) in time for Christmas, I took advantage of these prefab ops and scored not only my calendar cover photo, but the pictures for 4 other months as well.
As a mother, you'd think the last thing I would want is a picture of my son standing next to a topless woman. When the woman is a mermaid, though, somehow it doesn't seem so bad.
They also have two benches carved to look like dragons. The benches are huge; you could probably fit the whole Duggar family on one of them if you wanted to and they were so inclined. My son seems to be negotiating with the dragon and talking him into a ride in one photo.
In the next, the dragon seems to have agreed to be ridden, and so my son had taken hold of his ears and is smiling in triumph.
The smaller gold dragon in the Asian garden are not meant to be ridden, but try explaining that to a 4 year old. I have trained my son to say "ice cream" instead of "cheese" when I want to take his picture. He likes cheese, but he loves ice cream. When he says "cheese," his smile is cheesy. When he says "ice cream" he breaks out in the blissful smile of a lover speaking the name of his beloved. I had my back turned to him looking at another sculpture when I heard him say "Ice cream!" and turned around to snap one shot before explaining to him that he needed to get off of the little dragon.
"Why?" he asked
"Because you might break him."
"But I'm being careful."
I finally prevailed, but if anyone connected to the TRF happens to see this picture and wants to complain that the exhibit is for looking and not touching, I agree and will willingly submit to a lecture.
So, for those of you who need a face to picture when I talk about my Sweet Pea, now you have it. I'm hoping the grandparents enjoy their calendars, and appreciate the effort of wrangling and taming dragons I had to do in order to make it for them.
