Terror at the Renaissance Faire or How We Lost an Opportunity to be Named Grandparents of the Year…Again

by cindy

The Rooster is a cautious child.

Occasionally we forget the gentle side of his nature because with us he is engaging, outgoing, funny, sometimes demanding, always delightful. So when Dear Dave suggested an impromptu trip to the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire on a sunny Saturday morning, it was a no-brainer for us to include the Rooster and his parents. All parties were delighted! excited! thrilled! and raring to go:

Huzzah!

Hats! Swords! Huzzah!!

Please keep in mind that the Rooster has attended the Renaissance Faire before. And if one were to judge his excitement by the number of times he asked “Are we there yet?” during the forty-five minute car trip, one would agree that he was ecstatic to be returning.

And on some level he was…but…

Perhaps I should have paid more attention to that skeptical look on the Rooster’s face when one charming young woman extolled the beauty of his mother, my lovely daughter-in-law…

Praise

However, I did not and soon after we were off to explore the Faire. It’s not like there are any strange-ers wandering about…

Curiosities

Costumes

And some of us fit right in by lunchtime:

Turkey

Perhaps I should have taken a hint a bit later when Rooster grabbed my hand as he headed toward a small group, crying, “The Queen, Mommom! The QUEEN!” This was quickly followed by his question: “Is we going to talk to her, Mommom?”

“Yes! Of course!” I answered, because I always like to buy into such enthusiasm. Plus, I’m a sucker for royalty. Immediately upon hearing my answer his little hand flew out of mine and that little fellow bolted back to the safety of his parents. He was having none of that talking-to-the-queen business.

The Queen

Alright. So. No talking to people. Got it. We solved that problem by deciding to attend the Magic Show. Awesome. What child doesn’t love magic, right? And just so we could be sure the little lad could see easily, we sat RIGHT IN THE FRONT ROW. The show got off to a rather gentle, benign start which suited our little family just fine. All was well until the very first trick:

Magic Show

Yes. The Cutting Off the Arm Trick. RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE ROOSTER. And to insure the sweet little guy could SEE EVERYTHING, the magician felt compelled to walk…off the stage…to our very seats…just so we could see the “blood” as it began to “flow”.

Yep. Exit the Rooster.

I could say the rest of the day went swimmingly. The jousts were great fun. The purchase of a new sword was even more fun. The sodas and slushies were pretty good too. Eventually we headed to the Vagabond Circus show. Really! A circus show! WHO DOES NOT LOVE A CIRCUS SHOW, right? Well…

We were smarter this time. We sat near the back, mostly because the seats there were shaded by a tree, but also because, well, the front row didn’t work out so well before. So, there we sat. Safe. Cool. Refreshed by all those sugary drinks and content with the new sword. Ready to be gently entertained.

There seems to be a need sometimes for actors at these sorts of events to “warm” up the audience. Perhaps it is a way to stall for time if there are seats to be filled. Perhaps it is to get the crowd excited, in an effort to prevent the Elizabethan manner of response if the show is disappointing, as in throwing rotten vegetables at the actors. Whatever the reason, at this cannot-fail-to-please-the-Rooster circus show, the exceedingly pretty acrobat warmed the audience with her wit and charm. And as she did so, she wandered through the seats…making conversation and joking with audience members…working her way toward the rear…where, of course, we sat with the adorably cute Rooster. Yes. The Rooster. The too-cute-to-pass-up Rooster who caught her attention. All she asked of him was to share his blue slushie…

He was having none of it. That was the last straw. No. More. Talking. With. Strangers.

Exit the Rooster. Again.

He missed a pretty good show:

Vagabond Circus

I doubt if we return next year. Maybe we’ll try when he’s fourteen. Maybe.

Hmmm.

 Huzzah.