Last weekend, our friend Andy invited us to participate in the “First Annual Outlaw Soapbox Derby.” Now, Andy and his wife are of the can-do, hands-on, Make Stuff persuasion, while my guy and I would probably hire a handyman to hang pictures on our wall if doing so wasn’t mercilessly pathetic. So the idea of spending our weekend constructing soapboxes and illicitly racing them through a random neighborhood got us all Scrooge-y: we were way too busy; we had a million things on our To Do list; participating would screw up baby G’s lockdown nap schedule; not to mention we’re Just. So. Tired. Still, because we couldn’t bear to let Andy down, we said no to entering the contest but agreed (begrudgingly) to cheer them on for race day.
Fast forward to Sunday morning and I was still bah-humbugging the whole endeavor. I considered telling A to attend the race as our family representative so I could stay home and make sure the baby got his naps in. But it was one of those perfect Indian Summer days we get in the Bay Area, and the prospect of staying home by myself to subdue a leaning tower of dirty dishes without disturbing the slumbering dragino was just too depressing. So we blew off the nap schedule and piled in the car.
Would ya believe it? Not only did nobody get killed, or poke an eye out with that thing, or any of the other naysaying, school marm-ish warnings I was grumbling under my breath on the way to the race… in fact, it turned out to be a terrific day. A bunch of us showed up with our kiddos and friends of friends in tow, and we had ourselves a nice little hoedown in the sunshine (with some outlaw soapbox racing on the side). And as it turns out, people are much more forgiving of a group of hooligans showing up to blast “We Will Rock You” and careen through their very fancy neighborhood in homemade racers when several of said hooligans happen to be adorable babies.
Moral of the story? Sometimes you just gotta say eff the To-Do list and join your friends for whatever ill-advised antics they’re getting up to. Here are some of my favorite shots from the day.
Who's gonna call the cops on these cuties?
Hooligans-In-Training
Dig the space-age bubble wrap and electrical cord togas
More fun than doing dishes
I kinda love this post. Go Team Temesculous!