Blues BBQ Buffoonery

When you take little carnivores to a Blues and BBQ festival, you better be prepared with a change of clothes, an 84 count of wet wipes and PMS mints.

He won't sit on the grass, but he will eat a rib like a popsicle

Unfortunately, I only remembered the PMS mints. I forgot the change of clothes, despite the fact that I was traveling with a "PiSSsss" happy monkey-boy. I made him swear that he'd tell me when he had to do number one - I didn't take into account that ribs and corn give him the urge to punch out number two uncontrollably.

Oh well. Lesson learned. Should've foreseen the messy event when he told me he was wearing Zuki's new underpants because I still haven't caught up with our post-vacation laundry.

Joining some dear friends at an outing to the Blues and BBQ festival at Pier 84, we bothered enough people to claim the day as a success. We parents noshed, drank and yelled at our group of kids to stop doing things like this:

 

Demonstrating the Grandma Grip

And found that all the while I labelled my boys with buffoonery, I discovered that it is indeed - contagious.

With top notch blues bands playing in the background, my expectation for the kids was a mini-Woodstock...dancing barefoot in grass taped off with yellow "Caution" tape. Instead, their highlight was seeing our vacation cruise ship from last week, sailing down the Hudson River.

The Carnival Glory escaping without us

Envy makes you yell strange things.

While Samu screamed, "Wait for me!" I yelled, "Hope you hit a Goldberg!"

What? This is New York, not Iceland.