A Perfect Day

Yesterday we took the kids to the Cleveland Air Show. This is the third time in a row we've gone, and by far the best time. Andy was able to score some fantastic tickets from a vendor at work, and we got great seats; a covered tent, a catered lunch, all the pop, water and beer you could drink. (Although I kept the kids at a minimum; those little buggers are lushes...ha ha) Ice cream and cookies for the kids. Andy actually got to hold the pole that the stunt pilot flies through on the field, which he was grinning like a little kid when he got back, although I was mentally configuring his life insurance payments the whole time. It was a beautiful, sunny day, a wonderful cool breeze kept it from being too hot; it was great. I don't know if I just appreciate these kinds of days more since I'm working, and not able to spend as much time with the fam as before, but I really cherish these kinds of days.
But what I really have to comment on is my experience with the Fried Candy Bar.
Oh yeah. If you haven't been there before, it is a miraculous concoction. They basically take a candy bar ( I won't say the name for advertising purposes, but it rhymes with Bickers), poke a stick through it, drown it in funnel cake batter, and fry it. Then, when it's golden, they pull it out, plop it on a cardboard bowl and shake powdered sugar on top.
Thou art a bountiful and sweet God, to present such a treasure.
You have no idea what glorious greatness awaits you with this little morsel until you try it. Honestly.
I ate this about 16 hours ago now, and I literally cannot stop thinking about it. You know, like when you fall in love with someone, and all you can do is think about them, and you can't wait to see them again, and you're trying to think to yourself, "how can I arrange to run into them again soon?" I'm feeling this for a fried treat! Something is really wrong with me. It's taking over my life. I think I know what junkies feel like now. I'm reading newspapers in back alleys, searching for the next county fair where I can make my next score.
I'm so ashamed.