muck on my boots

This past weekend was insane. Or as I like to call it how many overpriced buckets of popcorn CAN we buy? I don’t know why every ‘good’ event in town arrives on the same weekend. Makes it really hard to hit them all and keep from keeling over. Especially when the rodeo runs until ten o’clock at night. And Oh GRACIOUS, Jackson will not hear of leaving until every last calf has been roped and bull ridden. Child after mine own heart.

You wouldn’t believe how dirty one can get while sitting in the stands at these events.

The dust kicked up by all those flying hooves coats everything. Also contributing: my four-year-old, who managed to dig a large trench at his feet while I wasn’t paying attention. This he referred to as his “nest” for the rest of the night.

Country kids! This particular group knew all the words to Big Green Tractor (See, I knew my boys weren’t weird!) and formed a small choir while the inspirational Big Green Tractor raked the dirt* between events. *Add to reasons we were covered in red from the waist down.

Jackson’s view of the event. Next time we’ll work on getting more of the happenings and less of the grass in between.

This morning I asked him what his favorite thing about the rodeo was. His answer: “The little hills of dirt were pretty fun.” Read: he liked the horse manure.