When my dad relayed this story many years ago, even though I was there when it happened, it was like hearing it for the first time, because he told it to me like a friend and fellow adult, rather than his little girl. Considering I was about 7 or 8 at the time the story takes place, it makes sense.
Ok, so I grew up in a safe and beautiful neighborhood located off a sometimes dodgy, and frequently trashy stretch of road. (parents driving friends for sleepovers frequently flinched when we gave directions to our house- "turn left at the sign that says 'Guns Gold Pawn'! Take a right, if you hit the trailer park you've gone too far...")
Further up the highway, when I was about 7, a carnival sprang up, complete with dubious games and rickety rides. Most likely staffed by vagrant carnies...but a child like me didn't see that. I saw pure joy! Rides! Toys! I made Dad and Brother take me on everything. Whenever Dad rode on a coaster, he'd have one hand around me, and the other holding his glasses firmly to his face. Every time. For years and years. Always with the glasses. But it makes sense, a lot of those rides were fast! I even remember Dad turning to a ride operator on a very fast and twirly ride and say "how often you have to hose this thing down?" and the guy just shake his head resignedly.
(Like this, but even more low-budget)
After getting our fill of rides, we went to play some games. Brother and I became obsessed with one game in particular, whose goal was to win by throwing darts at a bunch of posters on the wall, and whichever one the dart hit, we got a nice new version to take home. Dad later said:
"My heart was in my throat because more than half of those posters were...they were ladies in various states of undress. Mostly undressed. I knew your mother would kill me if I took you kids to the fair and came home with THAT. I closed my eyes and prayed your dart would hit those superhero posters you and your brother seemed so focused on. But then I figured if you DID hit one of those other ones, then I would just quietly "forget" it somewhere before we got home"
Oh God. I laugh so hard just thinking of my poor dad sweating the possibility of us winning some hilarious 90s pin-up poster. 7 year old me never saw any of that. I was too much in the zone. All I saw was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle poster and I knew it was destined to be mine (and I totally got it, booya!).
Our G-rated outing had somewhat lasciviously backfired. Poor Da. But we came home with only appropriate posters, and Mom never had to worry.
Friends, I encourage you to talk to your family and get all the stories you can out of them. They might be new ones, or a classic you've never heard from a grown up perspective. But listen, even if you think you've heard them all before, because they're all worth your time and remembrance.
