"Bazaar" Behavior

This weekend is our church's 87th annual bazaar. Because we're usually on vacation at this time of the year (and we've only been members for about four years), I've never attended it before. I am thoroughly amazed at the shin-dig that all of the volunteers from our parish put on. A parish started by Italian monks, with still a strong Italian contingency and ties to the surrounding farm areas, this church has a ton of history and it knows how to put on a bazaar - with Bingo, rides, food, beverage (and we're Catholic, so we've got the good stuff!), kid and adult games. However, it's Husband's involvement in this year's event that has me even more amazed (and touched, and tickled).

Husband has spent countless hours over the last three days running around the bazaar with an armed escort, pulling money from the booths and taking it to the money counters in the church basement. While this may sound like drudgery, he is absolutely in his element. His is by far the most social job at the event, with him getting to pass by every booth at regular intervals, where he can stop and chat. He also gets to "flirt with the little old ladies who count the money" (his words, not mine). I think the thing that he most enjoys though, is following in his parents' footsteps. They ran his school's festival for many years and I think Husband believes he is fulfilling a family legacy. Whatever it is about it that has him so excited, it's a kick to watch! The thing that is perhaps funniest to me is that he confessed today that he aspires to be like one of the guys he's been working with all weekend, who has been a member of the parish for 30 years and knows absolutely everybody. He said, "Just think, in 30 years I could be like George, walking around saying hi to everyone by name!"

Well, one can dream, can't one?