This morning, as I came stumbling out of the bedroom, P said to me, “You didn’t post anything last night”. For any of y’all who were thinking the same thing, let me explain the reason why.
We went to the rodeo last night.
By the time we got home, I was so exhausted that if I had written a post, this is what it would have said.
We went to the rodeo last night.
Now that it is the morning after, I am still suffering from a turkey leg/sausage on a stick/funnel cake hangover, but I think I can at least hit the high points.
Our morning started yesterday with Caroline leaping out of the bed and yelling “Let’s go watch some bullridin’ right now. Let me get my hat!”. As I made her lunch and got her ready to go to school, the hat remained on her head the entire time. There really are few things cuter than a cowgirl in footie pajamas.
By the time I picked her up from school, she was at a level of frenzy that I can’t explain other than to say there was a lot of talking! about! the! bulls! All I could think was that she was completely wired and hadn’t even had cotton candy yet.
We went with some friends of ours and their daughter, Sadie, who is Caroline’s age. As we all walked onto the fairgrounds, the girls held hands while they pointed out all THE COWS! AND THE TRASH CANS THAT LOOK LIKE COWS! AND THE HUGE HORSES!
We got there a little early so that we’d have time to eat the prerequisite rodeo food before the show started. Where else but the fair and the rodeo can you eat a dinner that can be summed up by saying, “I’ll start with the foot long corndog, followed by a turkey leg, an onion blossom, sausage on a stick and a fresh squeezed lemonade to wash it all down. Then for dessert, let’s have a couple of funnel cakes topped off with some cotton candy.”
The best part is it’s all so economical that our little family of three was able to eat dinner for about $100.00. And in case y’all were wondering, that price includes the indigestion.
We finally headed inside for the actual rodeo portion of the evening. Last night was opening night, which means one thing, XTREME Bull Riding, bull riding that is so tough that they don’t need to put the E in XTREME.
We were on our way to our seats, when the very helpful usher informed us that the show was about to start and we’d have to wait outside until the opening sequence of the rodeo was over, which would take about fifteen minutes and included FIREWORKS! and a RING! OF! FIRE!. I did what all mamas would do and threw myself on his mercy and begged that he let us take the little girls in because this would be their favorite part. He was very kind, understanding and accommodating and said, “Nope, sorry”, as he let the guys selling glow in the dark necklaces, beer and cotton candy go on in. Obviously, they had priority over the people who had actually purchased tickets.
When we saw that he had just let them in, P decided that there was no way the cotton candy salesman was going to see the fireworks and our daughter wasn’t, so he and Sadie’s mama took charge and just walked on in while the rest of us followed. It was an incredible act of rebellion that was obviously taking place all over the arena, given the floods of people walking to their seats.
So, with my heart still beating a little fast over our usher coup de grace due to the fact that I am such a rebel by nature, we found our seats and watched the opening of the rodeo, which really is the best part. Where else can you find real cowboys, fireworks and a ring of fire that would make Johnny Cash proud? Top it all off with the Star Spangled Banner and you’ve got yourself a little piece of Texas heaven.
We watched the rodeo clowns, including the legendary Leon Coffee and we watched the little kids in the Mutton Bustin’ competition while Caroline looked on with pure envy. It’s just a matter of time before she asks for her own helmet and mutton so that she can compete on the lucrative Mutton Bustin’ circuit. The little boy that won last night even received his very own belt buckle, if y’all can even imagine.
Then, it was time for XTREME Bulls. Let me just say that if I had a son, I would not want him to be a bull rider. Of course if he were to be a bull rider, I’d have to name him Cody, B.J., or Travis, since that seems to be a requirement for young men who want to risk their life on a bull.
We watched, we cheered, we laughed and a grand time was had by all. But really, for me, the hero of the night wasn’t the young man named B.J. who won the bull riding competition, it was P. Not just because he made sure Caroline got to see the opening fireworks, but because most importantly, he brought enough Tums in his pocket for everyone.