The circus came to our little town today. It made me feel like I'm living in a different century. The whole town heads down to the Big Top and watches the clowns, jugglers, elephants, trapeez-artists, tigers and eats peanuts. When you live in a town with 2,000 occupants the circus coming is a big deal. The town office, the bank and the hardware store all sell tickets for weeks ahead of time. There are posters in all the windows of "all" the shops (by which I mean several pizza places and hair salons). Apparently the circus visits us once a year, so this will be the first of many such exciting evenings.
Moses. Well. Moses. Four-year-old boys are made for circuses, that's all I'm sayin'. When God came up with "frogs and snails and puppy-dog tails" the concept of "circus" could not have been far from his mind. I can honestly say that I've never understood clowns until tonight. That is not to say that I knew how little I understood about clowns. I thought I appreciated their purpose and gave them due gratitude. Tonight I hardly watched the clowns at all because I could not take my eyes off the sight of Moses, generally so reserved in public, dissolving into contagious laughter every time one of those guys fell down or got hit on the head. The veins in his neck were popping out, at times he was screaming with laughs that were just too big for his body, and I definitely think I saw tears when that clown had water spraying out of his ears.
I'm sure that this was the best year EVER for the circus and Moses. We will go to many more circuses but he'll only be a four-year-old for this one. Thank God that He seems to be giving me an endless supply of four-year-old boys, that way the circus will never get old.