The grandparents took us to the circus tonight. In the row of seats directly behind us was an extended family with a large number of children. Before the show had even begun, the grandmother behind us gave all of her grandchildren snow cones. Bright red and blue snow cones that the small children spooned into their mouths. Every time their spoons came away from the ball of sugary ice, multiple flecks of ice splattered me on the back and in my hair. The lights dimmed during the hail storm and one of the children dropped a snow cone. I moved my purse off the ground and put it on my feet as the snow cone from behind oozed under my feet. I don’t know when the light-up toy vendor visited the row behind us, but I know for a fact that two of the boys gained toy light sabers and another boy got a lighted gun that made electronic laser noises. I know this because I was knighted by the children repeatedly and nearly missed getting whacked by a flying toy gun. They also had a silent, multicolored light-up scepter. The only reason I know this is because they dropped it and we had every child and adult in our row crawling on the sticky floor until we finally found it on the floor of the row of seats in front of us. I could tell which songs the children liked best by the strength that they kicked the back of my seat. If any of the children or adults behind me had said “motorsickle” one more time, my head would have done a Linda Blair. “Cycle! Motorcycle!” Now that I’m home, I need to go treat the stains on my shirt and wash my hair. Thank goodness my children were, umm, oh never mind. The circus was fun, but there’s a reason it only comes once a year.