Saoirse has been talking for the last six months about going back to the Auto Show. The Auto Show, you ask? What is this fancy event that sounds so vague yet warrants proper noun capitalization?

Well, friends, the Auto Show (yes, I’m sticking with the capital letters because now I’ve set a precedent…) is an annual, well, show that displays, um, autos. Cars, for those of you who aren’t familiar with my experienced fancy-schmancy technical jargon. Big cars, little cars, Ford, Toyota, Audi, Porsche: they’re all there. They don’t let you get in the Porsches, though. Don’t ask how I know.

We expected SK to be excited walking in, of course.  Her fascination with anything on wheels has not faded in the last three years. What caught us by surprise was Quinn’s absolute wonder.  She was amazed by all of those cars, and those two little girls tore through that expo center like acrobats through a circus (yes, acrobats. They tripped a lot, on all the wires underneath the carpet.  And climbed, and rolled and ran…). Honest to goodness, the Auto Show was better than an amusement park.

I think it helps that we went on a Friday afternoon, right after Quinn’s nap.  The place was fairly empty, other than a smattering of retired folks looking at luxury sports coupes, so they could climb in (almost. Remember that Porsche?) car they wanted.  And by the end of the afternoon, they had their favorites: Quinn was determined to drive away in an Escalade (white, non-hybrid, in case you’re already thinking about her birthday), and SK liked anything in a bright color, though she did instruct us that I was to purchase the Audi R8 in red (oh, the girl knows my heart), and David was to get the A4 in black, and name it Honey. She was really quite concerned for us. She wants us to have those cars. Either that or she’s over the mommy SUV we use to cruise around town. The girl has standards, you know. Oh, and she reserved a yellow Corvette for herself when she gets older.

Did I mention that the Auto Show is held in the same building as the Farm Show (of course with the capitalization), and that yes, it still holds the same, we’ll say, aroma as the previous esteemed event? It’s rather unfortunate, really. But if you sort of breathe through your mouth and take the children when everyone else in his right mind is working or heading to happy hour or starting dinner for the family, well, it might just be the best two hours you spend all week.

Trust me. I even let Saoirse pick out what she wants to get me for my birthday. What can I say? The kid’s got good taste.

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