Whew. I am tired.

We spent the day at an outdoor musical festival.  We had a booth there to sell our Haiti t-shirts.  Our booth was in the family section of the venue, right in front of four bounce-houses. It was a Christian festival (hence the name Fishfest), and let me tell you. I was praising the Lord on high when I saw that placement.  We had all four kids with us, and I had been worried how we would keep them entertained.  We got there around 2pm, and the three bigger kids ran straight for the bouncehouses.  They bounced themselves silly for FIVE HOURS.  No kidding.  We did drag them out at one point to make them eat dinner.  And then they were kicked out when it got dark and the crew came around to deflate them.  Oh, and there was one point when Jafta came out and staggered around a bit, holding his stomach.  I thought for sure he had finally had enough.  I was wrong.  He looked like he might upchuck for about 20 seconds, and then went straight back in.

We didn’t even make it in to the stadium.  Our babysitter extraordinaire came with us, and she helped maintain a visual on the jumping kids, and helped with Karis while we were selling t-shirts.  Thankfully a couple friends came to help, too.  It was a lot of meeting new people and schmoozing – which is not always my best milieu.  But we had fun, and we at least sold enough t-shirts to cover the booth and $40 worth of amphitheater pizza.  We also got to pass out Rage Against the Minivan stickers . . . which, apparently, many people find quite offensive (as shown by the look of horror and disgust on their face when they approached the booth, read the sticker, and then huffed away).  But perhaps those people would have been more interested in the “I was saved by someone getting nailed” t-shirts that were being sold at another booth.  (Okay, that might not have been the actual verbage.  But there were some baaad t-shirts, for realz).

Also, rumor has it that Toby Mac went on stage with one of the stickers on his shirt.  This has not been confirmed.   I will keep you posted.  I know you will be anxiously awaiting my follow-up on this important bit of news.

We also got a chance to see The Supertones play their reunion show.  (Only because their set was after the bouncehouses had been deflated  – otherwise we would have had a mutiny).  This was the first concert for Kembe and Karis, and what a fun band to start out with.  Mark has known the Supertones since they were in high school – urban legend has it that they played their first show in Mark’s backyard.  But even if we didn’t know them, we would still be fans.  Because, hello?  Who can resist ska music?

My kids had a blast.  They stood up on a picnic table to get a better view, and I thought they might break it.  Kembe was mesmerized.

India got her groove on pretty quickly.  Althought I must admit, her dancing would have been better suited for a grateful dead concert.  We’re gonna have to work on that.

At first, Karis was unsure.

 “I don’t know about this”

“Wait a minute, I LOVE this!  Supertones rock!”

Jafta had fun until someone in the crowd started throwing a beach ball around.  Then, he became completely obsessed with wanting to hit the beach ball himself.  Which, of course, was never going to happen because a) he was way too short, and b) there were hundreds of people there.  Still, he was locked onto that beach ball and completely oblivious to the band for a good portion of the concert.  And when we left, he melted down the entire way to the car about how he never got to hit the ball.

We got home LATE.  I am hoping this day of bouncing and rock-n-roll will ensure for a good night’s sleep.  Right?

Obligatory grainy audience fan shot snapped
while holding my camera above my head:

Obligatory stroll down memory lane:

Obligatory cheesy video for you to enjoy:

Throw your hands up, throw your hands up high!