Last night was THE night.

On January 1st I google: “Oakley Rodeo” – I find out when the tickets go on sale.

This year I was feeling inclusive and wanting to share MY family tradition with others. I sent out emails: “Come to the Oakley Rodeo with us!”

Apparently no one else felt so inclined. Eventually, my sister caved and agreed to come with her sweet-heart.

Then: I need to buy my tickets. But I was barfing. It was February by then, and the only things that got done were the things that would otherwise cause explosions. Tickets waited.

Then one spring day – Wyatt’s B-Day I believe – we were in Oakley, and we stopped by and  FINALLY got our tickets. Now it was official – although it had been on our minds since January 1st.

Now all we had to do was wait.

And we did wait.

And we thought about all it meant to have our own family tradition.

We talked about it.

We boasted about it.

We congratulated ourselves on having such a fun event to look forward to.

And then the week came.

It was discussed in family planning for the week.

The day came.

Olivia woke up diseased. Rush to the doctor. First question: CAN WE STILL GO TO THE RODEO?

Yes – she is contagious. Yes, she does need antibiotics. No, don’t let other children touch her. BUT you will be outside, so going to the Rodeo shouldn’t be a problem.

Don’t be late. I warned Wyatt.

He wasn’t late.

We’re going to the Radio! Olivia said all day. She was excited. This year she knew what the Radio was!

Sippys and sweatshirts in tow, off we went.

To enjoy hot dogs and cotton candy and cowboys and horsies and the warm July night.

And eachother.

And our family tradition.