Clowning Around With Mom

Last Saturday Mom and I met Grannie and Papaw on the other side of the ferry and we all drove to Langley (on Whidbey Island) for a stupendous free "kids' day" event with all sorts of activities. I had been playing with Grannie for quite some time before I realized Mom wasn't with us. When I started fussing for her, Grannie led me over to this funny-looking person who was making balloon creations, with a long line of kids waiting their turn. This person had a big red ball on her nose and colored spots on her face and a funny hat.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "I don't want a balloon doggie. Where is my mom??" Even when she spoke to me, I didn't recognize her. It wasn't until I got close enough to smell her that I was convinced she was indeed my mother.
So her little secret has been revealed: she's a closet clown!
For a short while I got to sit on her lap while she blew up the balloons (using the purple pump pictured) and twisted them into fun shapes to give away. It didn't seem so hard -- surely I can do that someday.
Sitting right next to Mom was an even funnier looking clown who turned out to be my Papaw under the yellow wig and makeup. Mom said he taught her to tie balloon animals and other things like flowers, hats and swords -- which were very popular among the boys, mostly. So they were clowning together at the kids' day, and I was pretty proud of them.

It's cool when your mom's a clown. I mean, do you think she'd make an appearance at my next birthday party??
On the way home, more fun. I got to drive my first car when we stopped at a grocery store for lunch from the deli. I tell you, it was hard to parallel park!

Are My Eyes As Blue??

Mom says my eyes are as blue as blueberries.
Well, here's what I think of that!
See all my eight teeth? A new one on the bottom just popped through today, that's why I've not been sleeping well at night.
Sheesh, Mom, does the blueberry have to be in my eye socket for the purposes of your photograph? (She answered yes.)
But this one's going straight into my mouth. Yum!!!!

Big Dogs

Quick, what's this I'm hoisting?
If you guessed croquet mallet, you're wrong! See the next photo for a clue...
Now you've got it--it's a polo mallet! Mom and Dad took me to my first polo match last weekend, on the way to a wedding. As soon as I saw all the horses, I wanted to talk about them, but I didn't know the sign for what they were, so I dug into my mental dictionary and came up with the animal that most closely matched what I was seeing: "dog" (slap of the thigh, like you're calling a dog). Mom and Dad understood me. They loyally called them "big dogs" the rest of the day.
If I watched real closely, the little white ball the players were chasing on their horses would come by where we were sitting. Gosh, it looked hard to hit from horseback. But each team scored several times, so it is possible.
There were 13 teams from all over, and the setting was a very scenic farm, as you can tell, near La Conner. I saw a reporter from the Skagit Valley Herald there, and here's a link to the story she published. She does a better job explaining the rules of the game than I could.
We only knew about this cool event from our friend Ed (pictured above, with his friend Mary). We met the two of them there and visited under the tent that was set up for spectators.
One of the polo players let me hold his mallet...
...and pet his pony...
...and even sit in the saddle for a brief moment, until she shifted and I got nervous and he lifted me down and back to the safety of Mom's arms. Whew! Big dogs can be kind of scary.
Now, wouldn't I like to drive the truck that can haul that horse trailer!