Bring in the Clowns

Every year, I take my family to the Big Apple Circus. Because apparently I suffer from amnesia.

It's a "low key" circus, although I'm not sure that's the official name--it's set up in a tent outside of Lincoln Center, so you feel all culture-ish like when you go. Like, you're going to the circus, but you could be on your way to hear the Magic Flute at the Met or see The Nutcracker at the ballet.

This year, I went with my papa, and the kids.  Husbandrinka was "sorry" that he couldn't go because he had a cold.  Poor thing had to rest in bed the whole afternoon.  

Here are my thoughts about this year's Big Apple Circus Experience:

The second my ass hits the seat, I start worrying that the whole thing is a firetrap.

Papa comments that the designers of the seats have not kept up with current assological trends, because the seats are pretty small. He says this while motioning to a very large man in front of us. Mortification, commence!

The tightrope walker is totally showing off. I don't understand why some people need to be "on display" like that.

Papa says that the circus in St. Petersburg (you know, in Russia) is better and that we should take the children to see it. Maybe not today, though.

I think that if I were a tightrope walker, I'd get really annoyed at everyone in the audience eating their weight in popcorn while watching me perform.

Every time the horse races around the ring, I'm worried that it's going to gallop into the audience and kill me.

My father announces that the man balancing vases on his head is Korean.

My father announces that the juggling act is performed by Russians, who are twins. He thinks.

I notice that one of the dancers has the hugest balls I've ever seen. (Yes, as in testicles.) Why can't they wear looser costumes? There are children in the audience. Not to mention people with eyes.

The galloping horse looks rabid. I wonder if horses, like dogs, can smell fear.

Oh look!  A pony!

Papa says that he thinks that the pony looks Jewish and for some reason, the orchestra starts playing "Fiddler on the Roof" music. "See? I told you," papa is pleased.

I'm worried that the trapeze artists will fall and I will have to deal with two traumatized kids.

I wonder how many Wii games my kids will require to "feel better".

It's weird how totally ordinary all the trapeze acts seem after the first five minutes.

My palms are sweating because I am certain that the trapeze artists will quadriplegic themselves in front of me and the children.

Why the fuck did I get tickets to this damn firetrap where I will be mauled by a rabid anti-semitic horse while watching death and destruction unfold in front of me?

Oh, that's right. Because I got a "buy one ticket, get one free" coupon.

Totally worth it!

Oh, look! hula hoop! Bouncy ball! Yay! I love the circus! Can't wait for next year!