Remember I told you that all three kids had friends over at some point earler this week? Well, those friends converged on Monday and I took the three of them, along with my own three, to the local amusement park. On a day it was raining and only 75 degrees. Because I'm a glutton for punishment like that. We're counting down the days until school starts next week, so I figured one final day of fun was due, plus by golly, I'm going to wring every penny out of those season passes that I can.
This amusement park is fairly typical, with rides and food and souvenir shops. It also has a few small arcade areas, similar to a fair or carnival, where you can knock down milk bottles or toss rings around goldfish bowls or throw a basketball or whatever ---- to win cheap, cheesy crap.
I don't normally let my kids do any of the games because we have plenty of cheap, cheesy crap in our house already, and I think money is better spent on pizza and dippin dots and pretzels and cotton candy and JUNK FOOD . But, one of their friends had brought money and wanted to play a few games, so we headed off to the midway area.
As I was standing back, watching Kellen's friend spend $12 in an attempt to win a $2 cape, I noticed two slightly-older boys at a booth where the "prizes" were 16 x 20 poster prints. They had each won, and were walking away with their pictures tucked firmly under their arms.
These boys were maybe ... I don't know .... twelve or thirteen?
The first boy had some kind of Rambo-type picture of Sylvester Stallone. The photo showed Sly, bandana around his head, sweat and blood dripping off of him, his face scrunched in some vicious kind of sneer, and him holding an automatic weapon, pointed directly at the face of the viewer. Almost like an "Uncle Sam needs you!" image, but with an Uzi pointed in MY direction.
Boy #2 had a simple black poster, with the Playboy bunny image printed on it. No girl, no nudity, just the international icon with bunny ears and bustier, known the world over as a symbol for .... um .... bunny-ness, for lack of a better word.
I'm not sure which poster I found less appropriate for a twelve-year old boy's room.
And my belief that my money is better spent on rock candy was affirmed.