October 1, 2007

How I Came to Eat An Invisible Circus Clown

The weekend - about which there are plenty of good stories and pictures which will, no doubt, be shared at a later date - was wonderful, except for the fact that I was sick throughout the entire weekend, and it ended with a bang. A bang in the form of a circus. Yes. We took Mia to the circus.

When we bought tickets two weeks ago, we figured it would play out in one of two ways - she'd either be insanely freaked out and we'd have to leave immediately or she'd love it and refuse to leave the big top until she'd hugged every last tiger and circus freak. We started preparing her immediately. We told her about the noise, that it would be loud with lots of loud music and clapping and yelling. We told her about the animals and the tricks and the fact that it would, at some points, seem like a very scary thing but it was, actually, all under control. And we told her about the clowns, the silly clowns, to use her words. We told her about the makeup and how there were real people under the makeup. We told her about the physical, slapstick comedy, the falling down that didn't actually hurt. And the big red noses.

Mia loved the circus. It was a complete and utter hit, like donuts on the Oprah set. She got a little scared a couple of times but spent the majority of the time laughing and clapping. Apparently, we prepared her well. Perhaps a little too well. After the circus, we ended up with a few uninvited guests. Three invisible clowns came home with us.

They hitched a ride in the backseat next to Mia. Invisible clowns are, for the record, tiny enough to fit three in the palm of your hand. They shared her water, told a few funny jokes and even had dinner with us. They cried, Mia hugged them and made them feel better. At one point during dinner, Mia held a hand out to me. I mistook this invisible thing for something I was supposed to eat. So I ate it and, in the ensuing commotion, learned a very important lesson - never eat your daughter's invisible clowns.

Now, from my point of view, invisible clowns are the stuff of nightmares. Like, if you run a red light, spank a puppy or pee in your neighbor's yard by booze-fueled accident, invisible clowns invade your house and bury you alive in your backyard. Apparently the world view of a 2 year old is a little different. I'm trying to embrace this and exist in a universe in which invisible clowns are extremely small powers for good with tiny red noses.

Posted by Chris at October 1, 2007 7:20 AM

I once ate an invisible dump truck the exact same way! I thought Drew had "cooked" me something and I was supposed to eat it--only to chow down on his only dump truck. Boy, was he upset!

But clowns, well, I've never eaten an invisible clown!

Posted by: Alissa at October 1, 2007 8:07 AM

Glad to hear that Mia loved the circus. But shame on you for eating the invisible clowns! Although, they are tasty!

Posted by: Maribeth at October 1, 2007 8:56 AM

Maybe somebody should've prepared me for the circus. I find clowns, invisible or not, a bit terrifying.

Posted by: Fraulein N at October 1, 2007 9:08 AM

i am totally afraid of clowns. always have been, probably always will. i know how silly it sounds, but they really creep me out. the logical part of my brain says 'theres regular people under that makeup and costume' but the creeped out Poltergeist/It side of my brain says 'clowns are evil!'.... i dont want my kid to miss the circus but i dont know how i am gonna get thru it. even the idea of imaginary clowns in my house makes me shudder. ughhhh

Posted by: madmom at October 1, 2007 9:37 AM

Sooooo, when you ate the invisible clown, did it taste funny? Oooooooooooh, SNAP!

Posted by: You can call me, 'Sir' at October 1, 2007 9:47 AM

I have a 2 1/2 year old daughter that we took last month to Seaworld in Orlando and "Shamu the Invisible Dolphin" came home with us. Shamu is also big enough to fit in her palm along with Cosmo (Jetta's baby brother from Clifford), Andre(we have no idea who Andre is)and the dinosaur that lives in our garage. Sometimes the dinosaur is broken. When this happens she gives me the dinosaur for a potty surprise and a new, fixed dinosaur appears. She cracks me up.

Posted by: Harry at October 1, 2007 10:19 AM

I've had to do any number of things that I wouldn't ordinarily. Like pretend to enjoy clowns.

It's worth it if the kids have a good time and she obviously did.

Posted by: ann adams at October 1, 2007 10:40 AM

This sentence made me laugh out loud:

"So I ate it and, in the ensuing commotion, learned a very important lesson - never eat your daughter's invisible clowns."

Posted by: Alison at October 1, 2007 11:58 AM

I had invisible dwarves. Apparently I had a blast chasing them around with a potty because they wouldn't pee.

And yes, invisible clowns are the stuff of nightmares. That, and mimes. God, the horror of invisible mimes.

Posted by: Lisa at October 1, 2007 1:40 PM

Ummm, bartender I'll have what he's having!

Posted by: Jeff A at October 1, 2007 1:50 PM

Did it taste like chicken?

The real question is, how soon before you run into a tiny invisible car full of them, intent on revenge for their comrade, in your office bathroom?

Posted by: Annie, The Evil Queen at October 1, 2007 2:41 PM

Wow, that freaks me out too.

I'm really glad she enjoyed it.

Posted by: Brad at October 1, 2007 3:55 PM

Let's hope that the universe in which you exist is one in which invisible clowns don't cause indigestion.

Posted by: GreenCanary at October 1, 2007 4:05 PM

Clowns always freaked me out. My Mom collects them like mad, but they scared me. I blame Stephen King.

I love the "invisible" stage they go through, how cute to see their little minds working aways to make new friends, invisible or not.

Posted by: SleepyNita at October 1, 2007 4:23 PM

This is exactly the sort of post that makes me want to surround myself with 2 year olds and see the world through their eyes. Of course, I'll give them all back to their parents within a few hours when the grumpy time starts.

Posted by: sarah at October 1, 2007 5:03 PM

I can't believe you ate a little clown.
Now they're going to reproduce in your stomach, and make tons and tons of little clowns.

You're infected.

Posted by: Cassandra at October 1, 2007 5:22 PM

Watch her in therapy years from now trying to explain how you ate a clown. Poor clowny. :)

The circus to me is only a step up from the zoo, which I despise. But I'm glad you guys ahd a good time.

Posted by: Phoenix at October 1, 2007 5:50 PM

Haha oh dear! In your defense, at least you were at the dinner table!
And just watch - tonight I'll have a nightmare about invisible clowns :P

Posted by: Heather at October 1, 2007 5:50 PM

Aww, that sounded like fun to take her to the circus.

As for clowns, I have an insane fear of them, invisible or not. They.terrify.me.

Posted by: Dawn at October 1, 2007 6:04 PM

I, too, blame Stephen King for my aversion to clowns. Oh, to be an innocent child who has yet to discover an aversion to clowns... Be careful when munching on clowns... they tend to go stale quickly.

I'm glad Mia enjoyed the circus -- it sounds like you and Beth prepared her very well.

Posted by: ironic1 at October 1, 2007 7:08 PM

oh no no no, no invisible clowns! that is the stuff of nightmares for me.

Posted by: boutros at October 2, 2007 6:39 AM

Mia is very brave indeed to actually make friends with something like Clowns, whom I personally detest(purely out of fear). And it' great that you ate them...atleast according to me :P

Posted by: Dee at October 2, 2007 9:43 AM

You ate the girl's clowns. Evil is what you are.

And I hate clowns too, myself. All the way back to that episode of Fantasy Island with the burning clown in the closet. I shiver just typing it out.

Posted by: aimee/greeblemonkey at October 3, 2007 10:36 PM