I “sat a booth” at my local state fair for five hours today.
Then I collected my children from my mother before meeting some friends who proceeded to keep me company and help corral kids until nearly 10 tonight.
The interesting thing about sitting a booth is that you see people you may not have seen in a long time. And, of course, you exchange the obligatory How are you? and must make that devilishly challenging choice of how much to say.
Personally I hate “Fine.” as an answer. Just because it means *nothing* and you might as well not have spoken.
So here’s the line I actually managed to pull off the top of my head for someone who hasn’t seen me since I was wearing my second child (in a sling).
I’m keeping busy (an equally useless alternate for Fine.): three kids under age six, teaching myself guitar and working on a novel. (At this point I get the same twinge as I do when I tell people I’m 29 and add defensively:) I’m almost finished and I’ve had an editor ask me to send it to her when it’s done.
Why I feel this need to justify or explain myself to near strangers who care no more for me than for anyone else in this aimless mass of humanity, I don’t know.
And I forgot to mention at the time I start officially homeschooling my oldest this fall.
But I’ve got another 3 hours in a different booth tomorrow, so I’m sure I’ll get another chance to try and squish it all out.