Is delicious? Unless you're some sort of crazy European who doesn't like rootbeer - not that I'm naming names or presenting a cultural bias, because you know, I love sausage and marzipan. I even like schnitzel and stollen and spatzel. (Apparently all I like are German foods that start with S and anything almond flavored.)
Anyway... We went to the Holiday Folk Fair over the weekend, which was lovely. The kids had a good time shopping and eating and watching ethnic dancing - Suzy learned some good spinning techniques, but just one time around, please, else one land's on one's hinder. She gobbled down some sauerkraut and a dumpling with gravy and then was very happy to move over to Ireland for a delicious blueberry scone. Harry, on the other hand, inhaled a taco and 3 cookies.
Suzy has shifted over to walking full stop. She's a little wobbly, which makes me think of calling her 'wobblesaurus rex', but no girl needs that sort of moniker to stick around until her feet are the size of mine. Also, with her squeaky shoes, undeserved (by her parents) level of cute, general happy disposition and outgoing brother, taking her places tends to be a bit like what we imagine traveling with a celebrity would be.
Happily, we only eat popcorn at home - you know, I'm not sure the public is ready for this (much as Jeffery Steingarten mentioned 'America being ready for rare pork' last night on The Next Iron Chef of which I watched EVERY episode. But I digress.
I know. But I'm not sorry at all.
Anyway... We went to the Holiday Folk Fair over the weekend, which was lovely. The kids had a good time shopping and eating and watching ethnic dancing - Suzy learned some good spinning techniques, but just one time around, please, else one land's on one's hinder. She gobbled down some sauerkraut and a dumpling with gravy and then was very happy to move over to Ireland for a delicious blueberry scone. Harry, on the other hand, inhaled a taco and 3 cookies.
Suzy has shifted over to walking full stop. She's a little wobbly, which makes me think of calling her 'wobblesaurus rex', but no girl needs that sort of moniker to stick around until her feet are the size of mine. Also, with her squeaky shoes, undeserved (by her parents) level of cute, general happy disposition and outgoing brother, taking her places tends to be a bit like what we imagine traveling with a celebrity would be.
Happily, we only eat popcorn at home - you know, I'm not sure the public is ready for this (much as Jeffery Steingarten mentioned 'America being ready for rare pork' last night on The Next Iron Chef of which I watched EVERY episode. But I digress.
I know. But I'm not sorry at all.
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