Back in the fall, Sophie's second grade class went to the annual Renaissance Festival held in Plantersville. I of course, being the kick ass Mom that I try to be, volunteered to go with the class to help. This picture depicts the early stages of the printing press and what you had to go through to just get the written word out for the people. Honestly, could most of the people even read back then? Anyway, you know how it goes at these things -- the employees/actors love the whip smart banter of the onlookers.When our class arrived at the demonstration we surrounded him and his little tart of an assistant, who I am sure could be his daughter, but I am also quite sure they are sleeping together - so I am hoping that they are not related. He then took an unusually long amount of time to recognize the fact that we were even there, 17 sets of second grade eyes staring him down. When he did finally acknowledge us, he said something along the lines of, "Why are ye all staring at me?" I of course, being a lonely housewife who never speaks to anyone in person over the age of 10 for the most part of her day say, (in a perfect medieval accent I might add), "Why sir, we are only staring at you because thy is so very handsome." (I swear that I am not attracted to men who look like this guy -- ever.) Awkward silence then followed for what seemed like an eternity. Then the tart, a.k.a. his assistant, glared at me so harshly that I was a little scared for a second that she might lunge at me like guest on the Jerry Springer show.
New Rule: Don't speak in an English accent in public and don't flirt with the employees at the Renaissance Festival.
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