If the Renaissance Fair Comes to Town and There's a Man Selling Baby Dragons...

You may recall that planning the big 10th Anniversary Trip was plagued with mishaps and misfortunes, both big and small. All six of us (3 couples, for those of you in 0U812 math) did end up making it on the trip (to St. John, USVI and not Cancun as originally planned), which was delightful. It was touch and go though, right up until the end.

The other couple with four children almost exactly the same ages as mine almost didn't make it...and again...it was mostly my fault. At the end of March, I read in the local paper that the Renaissance Fair was coming to Raleigh, to a new location, just up the road from our house. My husband was away with my eldest daughter at an Indian Princess event at the coast that weekend. The "RenFair" (what people in the know call these things) sounded like a fun way to kill an afternoon - sword fighting, jousting, fire eating and sword swallowing - all right up the alley of my six year old, Brady. I dragged my good friend and saddled-with-four-kids-of-her-own (who's husband was also at the Indian Princess outing) up the road to check it out.

Perhaps we should have taken it as a sign, and turned around when we saw a medieval wench being cuffed and put into the back of a police car as we drove up. We were slack-jaw at the costuming...particularly the chain mail, which I spotted on more women - in the form of bras and dresses - than on the sword fighters and knights. People dressed up in period appropriate attire just to attend this thing, not just the people who were working. It was like a Medieval Star Trek Convention. We stuck out like the suburban housewives we are, with our 6 kids (total, because we're down 2), 2 double jogging strollers, diaper bags, purses, over sized sunglasses, the works. Nice.

Nevertheless, we were committed, and upon paying our admission, we were immediately harassed by the "Baby Dragon" salesman. Of course, he didn't come out immediately and say they were for sale. He hollered out to the boys to come and hold them, pet them, and play with them. Then he stuck us with the hard sell. "They're great pets for kids." "They don't carry diseases like salmonella as some of the other reptiles do." "They only require a misting of water a couple times a week" and on, and on, and on. We left him, much to the boys' dismay. Thankfully someone was getting ready to start swallowing fire and swords.

After an eye-popping and corset-busting afternoon, we left. Perhaps we would have stayed longer had we seen the beer tent on our way in... Nevertheless, on the way out, my friend caved and purchased a baby dragon, named Alex, for her son. Thank God she didn't have enough money for two. I'll sum it up by saying that keeping baby dragons turned out to be a lot more intense than the salesman let on.

After we finally settled on an alternate destination (thank you, swine flu), my friend's two year old became sick. Nothing out of the usual, with four kids, someone always has or is incubating something. Not quite 2 weeks pass, and he has gone from feverish and vomiting, to getting better to straight up diarrhea, lethargic, and a fluid and food strike. Not good. She takes him to the doctor, where they don't find anything so she's instructed to obtain some stool samples (That story is for another blog, if she'll let me tell it).

We're three days out from our trip, and she's beginning to study the fine print on the travel insurance they purchased.

The day before we leave, the little guy seems to be on the mend, at least he's eating and drinking; his diapers are still a little, well, off...but we leave as planned. They ask the doctor and nurses to call with the lab results asap. Of course, nothing comes in on time, and some cultures have to be repeated, so it's Friday that the results should be available, but there's still no call. I'm hoping for the best (read: not contagious), as my babysitter and hers are sisters, and the 8 kids have spent the entire weekend together.

Upon our return, thelittle guy is eating and drinking, but they learn that the culprit was Salmonella. Yes, the same Salmonella that the Dragon Salesman insisted that the baby dragons don't carry.

Oh, and the babies (hers and mine) now have ringworm. Have no idea of the source, doesn't really matter, jut a glaring reminder that we're no longer on the barefoot beaches of the Carribbean.

Back to reality......