Calvin has been obsessed with monster trucks since he discovered the cartoon version of Bigfoot a few months ago. When I heard that the monster truck circuit was coming through our town I would have felt like a negligent father if I had not indulged my son in this finer-culture event. Not to mention, since I have such little time proportionally with the boys compared to Carolee I have to try to
jam as much testosterone into their activities as possible.
Suffice it to say, expectations were more than met. There were enough wrecks, wheelies, fires, and demolished junkers to make everyone happy. I was additionally entertained counting the number of mohawks, mullets, and moms in 3-xl carhartt jackets and wranglers in our section.
It made me realize again just how easy it is to make the little guys happy (Carolee spent the time with Noah at the science museum - we didn't think Bubba was quite ready for Gravedigger and co.). I have to earn my brownie points now before he gets more demanding.
Editor's note: these events are apparently really, really loud. The best dollar I spent all day went to an enterprising teen outside the stadium selling foam earplugs.