We’re finally here! I hop out of the car, my happiness spilling over.
My mother pats some powder on her nose, with the help of the scratched-up rear view mirror, before stepping out of our old Chevy.
“Momma, hurry!” I pleaded as I saw the Ferris wheel turning and other children running about, cotton candy in each hand.
“I’m coming, darlin’!” She hung her small, bright yellow purse over her shoulder and reached for my hand as we walked to the entrance of the park.
My mother gave me a dollar in cents and told me to spend it wisely. I yelped a thanks before running over to the cotton candy stand. I asked for two of em’. Two bright yellow ones, just like Momma’s purse. Each was five cents, a total of ten cents out of my hundred.
Coming back to where Momma was sitting at a picnic table, I gave her one of the clouds of cotton candy on a thin, white paper cone.
“Here, Momma, I gotchu one.” “Why thank you, hun.” “And look! It’s the same yellow as your purse!”
Next, we looked for balloons. We saw an old man in a colorful smock with what looked like a million balloons tied to his tattered belt.
“‘Scuse me, sir, can I have those two?” “The red and yella ones?” “Yeah, so Momma’s can match her purse and mine will match my shirt.” “A wise decision, son.”
He untied the balloons from his belt and I gave him three cents for each one. “Ya know, balloons make people so happy, don’t ya think?” “Why, of course, sir. Everybody loves balloons! Is that why you sell ‘em to folks?”
“Indeed so, I love seeing people happy when they get their balloon. It’s the best part of being the balloon man ‘round here.”