The End of Summer: Flying Horses

As a HUUUUGE fan of the president I asked if we could go to Mad Martha's for ice cream. Everyone ordered something good. I prefer an ice cream drink and had a delightful tropical concoction. My kids also found something for their palates.

An entire cone! Great parenting, everyone.

M+M Cream!

Yes, I like pina coladas.

For some exercise, we wandered over to the Flying Horses, the oldest carousel in America. And despite being over 100 years old, they let me and my youngest ride! Now, Flying Horses holds the distinction of not only being old but of providing the rider with the chance to grab the brass ring for a free ride.  Since I was born before the Internet, I knew of carousels at some point in history having rings which riders could try to grab, ergo the saying "grab the brass ring".  This contraption was not at all as I thought it would be from TV shows.  Next to either side of the carousel were two thin channels for metal rings to roll down.  Rings were slightly larger than a half-dollar coin and could be grabbed by hooking a finger through them.

I didn't grab any since, being only 11-months-old, my son needed me to keep a hand on him the whole time. But when the announcement came over the PA, "The brass rings are out", I kept my eyes open, just in case. And as we came around the bend, there it was; the two people in front of us blew their chance and I went for it, bowling over my son in the process.  "Please don't shove your kid onto the ground," I thought.  Fortunately my son survived my mad grasp and we won a free ride.  I still have the ticket since my oldest refused to get on with me.  Guess I'll save it as my moment of triumph.

"Outta the way, baby!"