Hello again, alleged readers? I’m just kidding, I’m not asking a question, rather I’m making a salutatory statement. Alright, for real this time: Hello again, alleged readers.
Always fun to have a laugh though, no?
If I’m forcing me to answer that question, I suppose I’d have to say, “No”.
For example, if I were waiting in line on a 90 degree day for cotton candy at the county fair, because I didn’t want to drive all the way to the state fair, and I convinced myself and my family that the county fair would be just as good, however only an hour in to our day at the fair, it’s becoming apparent that the county fair will not live up to my family’s collective expectations of what the county fair would be, let alone juxtaposed against the now discarded option of the state fair, and the children are now becoming agitated, and one is threatening to make themselves throw up out of spite because they haven’t been taught adequate coping methods and communication skills in order to process disappointment and relay concerns in a cogent fashion, but at the same time I’m also watching the high school student on summer vacation who is probably getting underpaid under the table hand out what is almost certainly way too much cotton candy to each customer so it’s not only taking extra-long for each of the many customers ahead of me, but now I’m also worried that they’re going to run out of cotton candy, or end up only having one of the colors of cotton candy available instead of the usual blue AND pink, which will be just as bad as not having any cotton candy at all even though both of the colors taste exactly the same, but at least half of the family won’t believe that to be the case, and I can just picture how that argument would go, and it would probably end up with me calling a seven-year-old a lunatic for not being willing to even remotely consider the possibility that their ill-informed opinion regarding color to flavor correlation as it relates to cotton candy might be wrong, but the logic is drowned out by the optics of calling a seven-year-old a lunatic, and I start pleading with the universe, “Please let there be enough blue and pink cotton candy,” I repeat over and over mentally until I start absent mindedly mumbling put loud to the point where the rest of the family is beginning to stare at me rocking back and forth ever so slightly reciting my aspirated mantra, “Please let there be enough blue and pink cotton candy,” and then I catch myself and try to play it off like I had to sneeze, and then right as we get up to the counter one of the children says, “Wait, I actually want the funnel cake and a slushie in the souvenir cup,” and bolts out of line towards the funnel cakes, and I turn and laugh nervously to everyone around me before running after the wayward child.
In that situation, I’d have to guess that it might not be fun to have a laugh.
Regardless, always remember to lightly wash your cotton candy before eating it.