The kids had an Olympic day last week. These things are a salad of chaos, drama, noise, confusion, snacks, and loud music. And they are taken very seriously, which makes them even more humorous to me.
It doesn't matter that I speak Chinese, I never have a clue what is going on at these types of events. The event was kicked off by red beret marching bands and kids waving all types of things in the air. I'm just glad Kesed didn't use his green flag as a Ninja stick.
Blanketed in cluelessness, I grab one of my children and walked to the tug o'war station. I yelled, 加油！"Add oil!" to cheer on these guys. I decided this was much more entertaining than wherever else my children were supposed to be. So we stayed there, took pictures, and chanted.
You don't get to see Chinese let loose very often. I loved this station. For one brief moment I felt like we were all on the same team of Vikings, hulling and pillaging a nearby island.
Makaria was supposed to be somewhere, but we have no idea where, so we just hit the playground.
At some point I found my other child and his class. They were about to do the scooting dragon race.
They didn't win, but watching 10 kids try to coordinate and steer a ten-foot log was satisfying to the soul. They ended up careening into an unsuspecting grandmother in the audience.
This was also one of my favorite events:
The old "pick your kids up by the crotch and carry them across the finish line race." An oldie but a goodie. Pretty sure that boy in the red got trampled right after this picture was shot. I really wish you could've been there with me. It was that funny. It reminded me of this.
Not one child was harmed in the filming of this race. Now, as their ability to bare children as adults, that is another matter.
Then there was the relay race that involved walking across a shallow bridge like a potato farmer. I love this place.
When we left, we saw Garfield. I have no idea why.
Happy Olympic Day!