It is becoming clear that James is just not a "festival" type of kid. He tolerated Jazz Fest well for the past few years, but I think that was largely due to the fact that he was just a baby and did not have much of a say-so. Mardi Gras this year was a little touch and go - he was cold, he was hot, he was hungry, he was tired, he wanted to play with my phone...while the best free entertainment in the world was passing right in front of his eyes. It pained me.
A few weeks ago, when Christian was in Atlanta, Luz and I decided to brave Hogs for the Cause, wanting to spend some time with Katie and MCB (who was in town for the weekend) and really looking forward to eating a bunch of different bbq/smoked/roasted/you name it, pork. Five minutes in to our adventure James' crocs got stuck in a mud puddle and I realized that we were not going to be enjoying an afternoon filled with bacony deliciousness. Luz and I tried everything we could think of but we could not calm James down. I looked around and there were toddlers running around covered in mud, children throwing themselves into puddle after puddle, covered head to toe, almost unrecognizable. It appeared to other kids that this was something fun. Not James. He hated the mud, he hated the water, he hated the crowds and the sun in his eyes and the loud music and that I could not carry him. Defeated, I grabbed the two closest pork dishes for me and Luz and we left as quickly as we had arrived. And it was at that point that I told James he is punished from Jazz Fest this year.
Here are a few pictures I took on our walk from the car...things were going pretty well:
Luz, sampling one of two dishes we got to try, this one was a Bahn Mi influenced po-boy and it was mighty tasty:
James, sad face, muddy shoes:
I actually had to take the crocs off and use the last of the bottled water to clean his toes.
These were taken the next morning when Katie, MCB and Lily the dog came over for breakfast...much more James' speed: