Rounding the back bumper of our 15 passenger van, we began our routine for loading up the crew. The chatty teens readily made their way to the rear seat while our younger daughter buckled in the toddler.
Dropping the stroller down to the closed position, my husband instructed our 9 year old ball of boy energy to move the bottles of water and take his seat next to his 7 year old cohort. While our feet were dog-tired from the full day of walking around the fairgrounds, the kids’ energy levels seemed to be drawing off of some endless reserve.
We were putting the finishing touches on our Blue Ribbon day at the State Fair, loading up our big, church-sized vehicle to head over for dinner.
There we were happily filling our van with coats, a stroller, goodies, and children (6 of our own and 2 substitutes pinching-hitting for our missing young adult offspring) when a comment was launched, like a fragmentation grenade, in our direction.
A mother, her two elementary-aged children in tow, uttered with audible disgust, READ the rest here