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Rocky View Publishing reporter embraces being a big kid

As I face down the barrel of yet another birthday, I find myself less and less interested in being what I always thought an adult should be.

As I face down the barrel of yet another birthday, I find myself less and less interested in being what I always thought an adult should be.

Though I do get way too excited when toilet paper is on sale (seriously ask my husband about the mountain of toilet paper I keep in my basement because I refuse to pay full price for something I wipe my butt with) I find getting enthused about composing the weekly shopping list mind-numbingly boring.

Creating a weekly menu plan is exhausting and getting laundry done before Monday is a losing battle I face each Sunday night.

Sure I am still responsible and come to work everyday and pay bills, but honestly I didn’t think growing up meant forgetting what it was to be a kid.

As such, my husband and I set out last month to have some good old-fashioned fun. Our adventure began with a drive to Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump but, being grown ups, we first had to make a stop at for sustenance that consisted of several different forms of junk food.

Along the way to the museum my husband discovered he enjoyed high-fiving himself more than he enjoyed high-fives with other people and, prompted by me, there is no dance like a synchronized car dance where only your right hand and torso are involved.

I’m quite sure it was a glorious site to behold has we leaned and swayed together while pumping our fists.

After our dance session, we finally arrived at the site.

The weekend prior to our trip, I had covered Open Farm Days and had the opportunity to get up close to a herd of live bison. Looking at the taxidermied and skeletal buffalo was alright but it’s really nothing in comparison to being next to a living 2,100-pound bison. In short, I was let down.

I was also really hoping for buffalo-shaped chicken fingers, which they did not have.

From Head-Smashed-In we headed back home but not before making a stop in Nanton because I insisted we visit the candy store and investigate the Museum of Miniatures.

A couple things on Nanton: the town itself is quite cute with lots of fun little shops with funny names, the candy store is overwhelming but the attached antique store made me feel ancient by having Beanie Babies available as antiques.

The ice cream shop isn’t much to look at but it had tons of flavours to choose from and the Museum of Miniatures cost $7.50, which was $2.50 above the limit I was willing to pay for a mini museum celebrating the wild west.

Unsatisfied from our adventures to Head-Smashed-In, the following day I suggested we visit Butterfield Acres Petting Zoo.

I feel at this point I should point out I love most animals (birds definitely don’t make the love list because they are mean) and I adore any chance I get to snuggle said animals.

The combination of tiny barnyard animals and being encouraged to pet and snuggle them was way too much for me to handle and I became a squealing three-year-old high on a bag of sugar.

My poor husband was so embarrassed as I unabashedly squat down with the goats, pigs, mini donkeys and bunnies and started cooing to them and telling them how handsome or adorable they were.

He watched on as I nearly exploded from glee as the pigmy goats gave my hand little pigmy kisses and he reluctantly indulged me as I ran to the tractor pull ride. It was pure heaven for me and an exercise in patience for him.

Up for this month is the Calgary Corn Maze, Halloween décor shopping, crocheting a Death Star pillow and karaoke. Bring it on birthday, I don’t even care how old you say I am anyway.

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