So it's a beautiful sunny Sunday morning. My wife has got a massive breakfast on the go (eggs, sausage, bacon, English muffins, etc.).I read in the paper that there's some sort of Wizard's World carnival going on down town, so we decide it would be great to get the kids out of the house.
We pack up my four year and six month old boys and head downtown. Both boys look like me, but my older boy is already displaying my demeanor to a "T".
We get there, and he shows minimal interest in the rides, but wants to play the games to win a prize.The one thing he loves, though, is the "Fun House". At first glance, I recognize this particular fun house. It's the one that starts off with the maze of glass and mirrors. You have to basically make your way through a maze of clear glass and reflective mirrors to the next level. I remember this type of fun house very well because of the numerous welts I've received on my forehead as a child, trying to negotiate them.
At the entrance, I ask the white hip hopper working the ride if any kids have smashed into the glass today. He laughs, and tells me about the hundreds of kids who have banged into the glass, but particularly about this one kid who ran full speed into the maze without even looking and smashed into the glass and knocked himself out.
After laughing my ass off for a few minutes, I knelt down so I was looking my son in the eye and said to him, "Please, for the love of God, keep your hands in front of you. If you don't feel an opening, don't go through."
My son, actually comforting me, put his hand on my shoulder, like a man consoling his best friend, and assured me that he would navigate the maze with his hands in front of him. What more could I ask for?
We get into the maze, and it's slow going at first. This way? No. This way? Yes. The second he gained some confidence...BANG!!!! He slams his head into the mother fucking invisible wall of glass. I shit my pants with fear, until he jumped up, looked at me and yelled, "I'm okay! It didn't hurt!"
After I realized he was okay, I laughed hysterically. My wife says she thinks she actually caught a pic of him hitting the glass. If she did, I'm fucking posting it. We all got a good chuckle out of it in the end.
Regardless, I played the impossible basketball game where you have to shoot a warped ball into rim that's half the size of regular rim, thirteen feet in the air, and twenty feet away. "ONE IN WINS JUMBO" is what the sign read.
I grabbed three balls for five bucks. I calculated the first shot (put to use all the bench warming I did playing college ball). I shot the ball twice as hard as I normally would. It was dead on, but hit the front of the rim. The second shot was on the money.
"Whoo-Hooo" my son yelled as he knew he was getting his pick of the jumbo prizes. I was excited as well until the wigger passed me the ball saying, "You got one more shot, man..."I was like, "Fuck you dude. It says, 'One shot in wins jumbo'..."
"That's right bro. You've won one, but you have a chance to win one more. It's one jumbo prize per basket made."
I turned toward the basket, did the exact same shot as I did last time, and made it. According to my son, I'm a fucking ninja.
Who am I to argue?
P.S. How much you wanna bet massive "Luigi" and "'Tucan Sam" will be in the garbage by the end of the week?