Every year, around this time, I load up my children and drag them to a large city park where I force them to pretend to be happy to be seen in public with me as we picnic as a family and I pretend I totally don't know they would rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment as long as it is somewhere far from me and it involved video games.
It's a tradition.
This year was a raging success, if you define success by my five year old nephew stomping around with a pre-teen attitude all day, me fighting the urge to put my foot up his arse, Fric and Frac unsuccessful in their efforts to find an escape route and Jumbster managing to not fall out of his wheelchair.
It was a picture perfect day. Ahem.
Nothing says picnic like me not combing my hair and using a cowboy hat as a lid.
Fric and Frac faced off in the potato sack races. Big sister takes her picnic racing seriously. Little brother thinks his sister is a dork. She has tenacity in her favour. He has longer legs in his. I'll let you decide who won.
There was a petting zoo. Jumbster was not keen on this. Or the guinea pig which suddenly appeared in his lap.
We did, however, learn Jumbster had a hidden skill. He is the true jackass whisperer. His services are available for a negotiated fee.
They shouldn't call this the Tub of Fun. More like the tub of puke. Note to self: Do not call your sister's new boyfriend Noodle Man and make fun of his spaghetti arms just before going on a ride where he can spin you to sickness. Also, I should probably apologize for accidentally grabbing my sister's boyfriend's testicles when I was looking desperately for a handle to hold on to. My bad. Hope they still work, G-man.
There was the Original Balloon Man. He remembered Knox and I remembered how thankful I am to this man for shining a light on my love whether he knew it or not.
Best of all, there was this guy. Laughing at us all, and spreading the joy everywhere he went. Because that is just how he rolls.