Welcome to my new blog, Baby Wants a Pony. Due to a large case of procrastination and small dose
of fear it has taken me some time to actually commit to this, but now I am here what can you
expect?
of fear it has taken me some time to actually commit to this, but now I am here what can you
expect?
If I had to give one word to best describe this blog I would have to say it would be- Tourette's.
Truth be known I am not really good with political correctness so there is a better than average
chance I may offend someone along the way, so please accept my apology now.
I am a mother or three boys but I am not a "Mummy Blogger", not that there is anything wrong
with that it's just that there is more to me and my life than my children plus there are plenty of
other poo, wee and vomit obsessed mothers out there flying that banner.
With that said I did stupidly take my kids to the Geelong Show over the weekend and
there is nothing more enticing than the heady aroma of diesel fuel, dog feces and vomit as you walk
through Gate 1.
No longer is the Geelong Show as interesting or exciting as it was when my 12 year old eyes where
soaking up the atmosphere. Today all that stands is a Gigantic $2 shop spread out over multiple
marquees, but here's the kicker - everything is $22 for the that crap not $2.
Having been robbed of $20 to gain entrance into this $2 shop and stupidly needing to quench my
thirst on a $6 can of Coke Zero it dawned on me that I had underestimated my budget.
Heading for the ATM was almost like running some medieval gauntlet from Game of Thrones.
There were toddlers throwing tantrums, teenage girls holding hands in rows of 8,
teenage boys dressed as One Direction (is it Halloween already?) and slow Nanna's shuffling
along not to mention the sea of angry pram drivers, one, who had clearly gone over the edge as she
had hot tears running down her face and she didn't care who saw.
Finally there at the end of my imaginary rainbow was the pot of gold, well the ATM...where I was
slugged $3.50 to withdraw my cash.
Walking down the main strip is what I suspect it is like to walk through a high security male prison
in the US.
First you have your entry level carny folk and they scream at you either with a microphone that they
there is nothing more enticing than the heady aroma of diesel fuel, dog feces and vomit as you walk
through Gate 1.
No longer is the Geelong Show as interesting or exciting as it was when my 12 year old eyes where
soaking up the atmosphere. Today all that stands is a Gigantic $2 shop spread out over multiple
marquees, but here's the kicker - everything is $22 for the that crap not $2.
Having been robbed of $20 to gain entrance into this $2 shop and stupidly needing to quench my
thirst on a $6 can of Coke Zero it dawned on me that I had underestimated my budget.
Heading for the ATM was almost like running some medieval gauntlet from Game of Thrones.
There were toddlers throwing tantrums, teenage girls holding hands in rows of 8,
teenage boys dressed as One Direction (is it Halloween already?) and slow Nanna's shuffling
along not to mention the sea of angry pram drivers, one, who had clearly gone over the edge as she
had hot tears running down her face and she didn't care who saw.
Finally there at the end of my imaginary rainbow was the pot of gold, well the ATM...where I was
slugged $3.50 to withdraw my cash.
Walking down the main strip is what I suspect it is like to walk through a high security male prison
in the US.
First you have your entry level carny folk and they scream at you either with a microphone that they
picked up at cash converters or by voice alone with such gems as -Everyone's a Winner, over here beautiful and my personal favorite Winner Winner Chicken dinner.
Then you move up to your middle management carny who has been in the biz for a few years now,
Then you move up to your middle management carny who has been in the biz for a few years now,
they are a bit bolder and have got a bit more confidence, they will actually grab you on the arm and
try to engage in some small talk or banter before trying to get you to hand over $10 for a crack at a
game that you know is rigged. But never fear everyone's a winner here and you are sure to end up with
a key ring with Y2K on it or the like.
You may also find some of these middle management carny folk securing your child into a rusty slab
You may also find some of these middle management carny folk securing your child into a rusty slab
of metal with a chain, an O-ring and some grease holding it together all powered by a motor ...
this is also known as a ride.
That brings me to the senior management carny folk, these old silverbacks have usually been born
into the business and are rarely seen by the average punter. They are the ones who assemble the rides
before anyone arrives and then takes them down after everyone has gone, sure they may have to come
out if their caravan on the odd occasion to fix some minor mechanical issue with the vomitron but
apart from that and of course breeding to ensure the linage continues, that's about it.
Having ticked off the Animals, monster trucks, reptiles, rides, show bags and salmonella - I mean food and with our $300 worth of crap securely wedged under our arms we called a day.
Having ticked off the Animals, monster trucks, reptiles, rides, show bags and salmonella - I mean food and with our $300 worth of crap securely wedged under our arms we called a day.
