Walking Around With Spongebob

Yesterday the temperature reached over ninety degrees outside. I'm telling you this because I was outside all stinking day. And not by a nice, cooling swimming pool.

Why was I outside in the blazing heat all day yesterday? To celebrate my husband's employer's thirty years of building engines in our town. I'm not sure if I should divulge the name of his company. It may be a secret, but the name starts with Cat and ends with erpillar.

I'm, like, really great at secrets.

The 30 Year Extravaganza (as I've been calling it all month) was fun. There was an outdoor carnival, complete with games, prizes, and bouncy houses. No actual carnies though. The carnival was run by volunteers from the company. I was bummed. I love chatting with carny folk.

One of the first things on our family's To Do list was the Wrecking Ball. We stood on what amounted to giant inflatable pillows and pushed a big inflatable wrecking ball at each other. The goal? To knock your family member off his/her pillow.

Despite my obvious athletic skills, I was the first one down.

Not knocked down. Just down.

Fell off my pillow.

I couldn't get my balance on the thing because it's way harder to stand on a giant inflatable pillow than it looks.

Stupid giant inflatable pillows. Those pre-schoolers made it look incredibly easy.

We moseyed around the games area eating snow cones and cotton candy while collecting many a valuable prize, like sequined slap bracelets and multicolored jester hats with little jingly bells on them. Quality items, people. All was right with our world.

Until my youngest spotted a big inflatable Spongebob toy. She became obsessed with winning it. I'm still not positive about the rules for winning the big inflatable Spongebob, but my youngest kept coming extremely close. She was denied victory every time.

It made for a miserable lunch for her. She could barely enjoy her lemonade and a hot dog, no bun. She likes to tell the server people that she's on the Atkins diet, but she is not. She's simply never liked buns, but I digress. Homegirl was down. Not even a massive fudgsicle lifted her spirits. She had to have the big inflatable Spongebob.

After lunch she gave winning the giant inflatable Spongebob one last try, but to no avail. Big inflatable Spongebob stayed just out of her reach. He hung there on the side of the tent, swaying gently in the breeze and mocking her.

Fortunately for my youngest daughter, she has an older sister who has inherited their mother's bizarre ability to win at carnival games. Seriously. I have mad carny game skills. My oldest won the giant inflatable Spongebob and promptly gave it to her sister.

We left the carnival area and took a tour of the factory where the large engines are made. My husband was telling us all about all the different engine parts and what made each engine unique. Sadly, I'm not a gear head and I don't understand the subtle differences.

I tried to pay attention. I really did.

But my mind started to wander.

About halfway through the tour of the factory I noticed that my husband was wearing a pale yellow Polo shirt and tan shorts.

And he looked a lot like the inflatable Spongebob toy.

All he needed was a tie and some black shoes.

The Thirty Year Extravaganza was a great time and we all had a lot of fun. But for me the occasion will always be marked as the one where I realized that I married a man who takes his fashion cues from children's TV shows.

Lord help me if he starts dressing like Bert or Ernie. Pin It Now!