The one time I don't love living by a school is this day. The day of the Spring Fling. The setting of the carnival is directly over the backyard wall, and the only thing this does to serve us is when we've got too many Red Ropes, and we need to toss them over the wall so we can free our hands for nachos.
The very worst part about being so close to the Spring Fling is the anxiety it gives my children when they can see that the carnival is being set up, and they are sure they are OH HOLY CRAP, ARE YOU KIDDING ME, MISSSSSSSING IT!!!!
It's a full hour and a half of, "Mom, look, we have to leave now." "Mom, there's people there, let's go." "Mom, that bounce house. Look at that bounce house. We are missing the bounce house!"
I exaggerate a lot. This? I'm not exaggerating about this. It's an HOUR and a HALF of "Let's Go, Let's Go, Let's Go." Can't close the curtains, because then they think I'll forget about it entirely. Can't explain it's not ready yet, because they see the kids of the parents setting up, already climbing the tower right outside the bedroom. Can't go be one of those parents who helps set up early, because I hate helping to set up stuff.
And once we're there, there's just no Leaving Early. That's pure torture to them. We are prisoners of our proximity to Dragon Slides and Free Candy.
As the Spring Fling dies down, and the rides deflate, and the smell of thrown up cotton candy permeates the evening air, we still get to enjoy the constant hum of generators well into the night, and sometimes we get a free kareoke show at 10pm, when the workers think no one can hear them do thrash metal renditions of Britney (true story).
Oh fine, I still love it. Because, despite the minor inconvenience of impossibly excited children, and that sickening smell of rubber that lingers for days, when we get home, our backyard is just swimming with Red Ropes. And that's gotta count for something.