I have been putting off the inevitable Sydney Royal Easter Show for close on three years now. I have ducked and dived and made excuses until I was starting to look like quite the liar.
So along came Monday – Easter Monday – the day before the show was ending and my number was up. Really and truly. I sucked it up like a big girl, put on my sneakers and went to the show looking like a badly dressed tourist in my own town. I refused to bow to the backpack and happily trotted out my nice leather bag. Which is HEAVY, all on its own. Rookie mistake people, rookie mistake. Take the fucking backpack that you get when you sign up for gym membership. Your shoulder will thank you for days after.
So, yes, the Show. Quite pleasant actually. First Show moment – on arrival we ate the obligatory chip on a stick.
The salt content alone, not including the fat content, can send you into a cardiac arrest if you are so inclined. However, as it was vegetarian it made me feel less guilty as I walked through the goat and pig stall. My mother wanted to know if they had painted the pigs for the show – as they appeared to be patterned. Some seeing eye glasses appear to be in order shortly.
I was obsessed with getting to the dog show. I have never really been to a dog show and now that I am a crazy dog lady it is a total essential. I am not certain but I think that maybe they give the dogs drugs so that they can do their hair. As I have a dog and I see many other dogs in the park I know that never, on God’s green earth would any of them allow anyone to groom them to within an inch of Kim Kardashian. There was one that looked like it had been done over with a GHD. Not a word of a lie. Drugs in dog shows people. The next big scandal. Remember, you heard it here first.
And then we went to tent pegging. Best sport ever (not counting wood chopping). These mad arse people on horses pop balloons with pistols, chop stuff off a stick (it must clack and not click when you chop) and then they “draw their lance” and get these ring things off a string and finally peg a piece of paper off the ground. There’s even a world championship that was held in Oman and Australia sent a team. True story. And they have names like Barry Biffin and Jake Van Dorsen. Totally mad. Here is a picture of my ungrateful offspring refusing to have their photo taken at tent pegging. The smiling blondie is my mother.
Oh, and the wood choppers. Highlight of the show. The lovely and young Jessie from New Zealand was a total hit with Miss14. He chopped himself silly – I have never seen people do such things with a tree stump and an axe. Respect. Muscles. That is all. And they wear these cute white pants. That is all.
Special mention to the farmers with the fruit displays. In my life!
I managed to wangle out of going on rides etc because even Miss11 could not be that cruel and even though I promised to go with her on absolutely anything, my grey pallor was perhaps a dead giveaway. For that she might still live to see another sunrise after breaking her father’s iPad today.
So after corralling three children (sorry mom) through the Easter Show I was well and truly exhausted and completely lost my shit when I arrived home to find dishes in the sink and the dishwasher NOT unloaded. As you do ten hours later.
Stay safe out there people and out of jail – even though the urge to kill your offspring and possibly your spouse is threatening to overwhelm you and a tour of duty at Long Bay Correctional seems like a good vacation idea – only five more sleeps till Term 2 starts.
Love and light