Toad Suck Daze has come and gone, and I’m still thinking about it.
It’s a different experience when you have a child with you.
It was part of a hectic weekend that coincided with my younger son’s graduation from the University of Central Arkansas in Conway, so I had family members in town. My brother came and brought his sweet 5-year-old, while my brother’s wife, recovering from knee surgery, stayed home with the 1-year-old. Wise move.
We got my son graduated, gathered for a celebratory meal and came home, tired but happy.
My nephew had never been to Toad Suck Daze, though, and the weather turned out to be beautiful. We asked if he wanted to go, and he asked: “Will there be toys there?” I assured him there would be.
First we went to the Toad Store, where hundreds of people had already been, and it was low on some of the popular items. Seb picked out a tiny hand sanitizer in a Toad Suck Daze holder that he promptly clipped to the collar of his little shirt. He told me that if we got our hands dirty, we should use it. It made his germophobe aunt proud.
We went to the kiddie area, which I have managed to avoid for the past 15-plus years, since my boys grew up. The activity that caught Seb’s attention was the balloon man, and there was a line. I stood with him as the man made monkey hats and swords for kids. When it was our turn, Seb asked the man, “How do you do that? Did you practice?”
“I used to,” the man said.
Seb was indecisive about what he wanted, and the man made suggestions. Seb settled on an animal — a zebra.
That stumped the guy. “I can’t do a zebra; I don’t have black-and-white balloons,” the man said.
The man suggested a snake — Seb’s daddy’s most hated animal — and Seb was excited and asked for a blue one.
He happily carried his snake to the ride area, where he got on the Dizzy Dinosaurs with my brother and my daughter-in-law.
When they got off, Seb was running to a game, and he fell — hit his head and popped his balloon. It caused physical and emotional distress. “I loved that snake,” he said, crying.
My mother, bless her, immediately offered to go stand in line to get him another one.
Seb went “fishing” and got an inflatable, camo army gun; he threw balls and balloons and won a small stuffed giraffe; and he picked up ducks and got a plastic sword.
We walked around the festival after that, and his daddy bought him a light-up bubble-blower. Seb also got a slushy in a tall, fun cup and shared our sampling of deadly but delicious fried foods.
The only thing he didn’t do was race a toad because no races were scheduled while we were there.
When we got home, Seb asked for a marker to draw eyes and a mouth on his balloon snake and played with his Toad Suck Daze toys.
“Best day ever,” he said.
It was the best Toad Suck Daze I’d had in years, too, thanks to him.
Next year, we race a toad.
Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 327-0370 or tkeith@arkansasonline.com.