says,” Molly answers.
With a grin, she turns back to the worker.
“The first thing you want to do is approach her slowly, making sure you do it from the side a little so she can see you properly. Click your tongue like this.” The worker shows her how to make the sound. “And talk to her softly, using her name.”
Gemma mimics the worker, her head tipping back the closer she gets to the big animal.
“Hi, Mona,” she says gently, then clicks her tongue. “You’re such a pretty girl.” Click. Click. “Would you like a nice, tasty apple?”
The horse’s ears twitch, and she lets out a soft snort. Gemma’s eyes grow big.
“Now lift your hand slowly and pet the side of her head a few times,” the worker continues.
The moment Gemma’s hand touches Mona, she grins big. She looks around to make sure Molly and I are watching.
“Good job,” I praise.
The worker pulls out a slice of apple and holds it out to Mona.
“See how my hand is flat?” Gemma nods. “You want to keep it flat and keep your fingers together. It makes it easier for Mona to grab the apple without nipping your fingers.”
Mona takes the apple from the worker’s hand, then she offers one to Gemma. It’s adorable to watch the pride and joy on her face as she holds up her hand, her palm flat, and her fingers together, offering the apple to Mona.
The worker lets her feed Mona two more times. When she asked Gray if he wanted to try, he declined, his focus intent on the goats a couple of stalls down.
We browse a couple more barns before we leave the agricultural section and make our way to where the rides and food are. The sun is bright, without a cloud in sight, but thankfully there’s a light breeze that keeps the heat bearable.
When we approach the bumper cars a few minutes later, Gray’s eyes light up. “Can we do the bumper cars?”
“Sure.” I grin, “As long as you don’t mind me kicking your butt.”
Gray snorts and rolls his eyes. “No way, old man.”
With a head shake and her lips twitching, Molly deposits the core and stick from her candied apple and what’s left of her lemonade into the trash can. She walks back to us and grabs Gemma’s hand.
“The boys are crazy, huh? They’ve got no clue we’re going to cream them at bumper cars,” Molly boasts, winking down at Gemma.
Gemma giggles, her excitement growing at the prospect of whipping my and Gray’s butt.
We get in line, and because it’s during the day and the fair’s not as busy, it only takes us ten minutes before we’re sliding into our cars.
I take a look at my family, Gray in his own car and Molly and Gemma sharing one, and my heart practically drums out of my chest. They all look so happy and content in this moment. With everything going on lately, it’s been hard to have those truly happy feelings. I’m determined to have more of these moments.
Noticing the ride operator give the go-ahead, I press down on the pedal, and the fun begins. We bump, we block, we chase, but more importantly, we laugh and have a damn good time. Hearing Gemma’s squeals of delight as she points to either Gray or me for Molly to bump against has me laughing more than I have in a while. After pummeling into my and Molly’s cars a few times, Gray starts going after the few other people on the ride with us.
By the time we exit the ride, we’re all out of breath from laughing so much.
“What’s next?” I ask the kids.
“The swings!” Gemma shouts.
Already seeing the squeamish look on Molly’s face, I suggest, “Why don’t you go grab another snack while I take the kids on the swing.”
Her face relaxes in relief. Ever since she got sick when we were teens from riding on the swings too many times, she’s never been able to handle them again.
“Okay.” She tosses her thumb over her shoulder to a sitting area. “Meet you at the picnic tables after you’re done?”
“Sure.” I peck her lips before me and the kids take off for the swings.
A while later, after we’re done with the swings, we make our way to the picnic tables. Molly’s sitting at one, a large plastic cup of lemonade and the remnants of her funnel cake on the table in front of her.
“I’m hungry,” Gemma states, plopping down on the seat beside her mom. “Can