No bull

I was sitting at my desk last week when an email popped up saying there were two tickets to a bull-riding event available to the first person to claim them. I had dinner plans with a friend and had told Jeff he would have Biscuit on his own.

When I found out the tickets had been claimed, I knew exactly where they were ... in Jeff's pocket.

Sure enough, Jeff called a few minutes later and said, "Guess where Biscuit and I are going tonight?"

Jeff picked Biscuit up from day care and brought him home to change his clothes. Biscuit asked if he could take his cowboy hat, and of course Jeff let him. The two of them headed over to the coliseum, and Jeff said Biscuit's hat fit right in with all the other kids there.  

The tickets came complete with a premium parking pass. It was such a good space, Jeff drove around the building looking for it. He couldn't believe it was actually as close as it was.

They got inside and had to find their seats. Two flights of stairs later, Jeff noticed that their seats were way less crowded than the regular sections, and the ushers were wearing white shirts with bow ties and vests. The walked into the Diamond Club where they found carpeted floors, dining tables, banquet tables full of food and drinks and TVs, so you could see what was going on in the arena.

Jeff was impressed by the spread, so he called me and handed the phone to Biscuit.

"MOM! MOM! They said I could have as many cookies and sweet teas as I want!" Biscuit yelled.

Biscuit handed the phone back to Jeff, and I said, "Please don't let him have all the cookies and sweet tea he wants."

Jeff laughed and assured me that Biscuit would eat a meal, then get just one cookie.

Jeff and Biscuit got to their seats and found only three rows in their section. From their perch, Jeff said they could see everything really well.

The P.A. announcer let everyone know that there would be flashing lights and loud noises as they introduced the cowboys who would ride that night and bullfighters (formerly known as rodeo clowns). So through the introduction and the national anthem, Biscuit stood with his hands over his ears. At least he remembered to take his hat off.

The ropers rode out first on their horses. Once the bull riders were off the bulls (whether they got thrown off or they were done with their ride), the ropers helped get the bulls into the exit chute. From what Jeff said, Biscuit would've been satisfied just to watch the ropers ride around for a while.

The first two bull rides of the night were full eight-second rides, so Jeff said Biscuit didn't quite get that it was a hard thing to do. After the second ride, Jeff said, "That's some good ridin' right there, by golly."

The third rider through the next six or seven got thrown off, but Biscuit didn't get that it was a bad thing. After every rider, he repeated what Jeff had said earlier, "Dad, that was some good ridin' right there, by golly."

Once we were all home, I asked Biscuit how he liked it. He said, "MOM! That one cowboy, he stood on that bull for NINE MINUTES!"

"Wow!" I said. "Nine minutes? That's a heckuva cowboy if he stayed on the bull that long!"

But whether it was eight seconds or nine minutes, the bull riders impressed Biscuit. Almost every night since they went, he has staged his own rodeo. He takes his bouncy ball into our bathroom and closes the door. Then when he's ready, he flings open the door and bounces out the door yelling, "YEEHAW!"

So it looks like Biscuit's career path will either be cowboy or firefighter? He really knows how to make his mama worry!

Here's one of the bulls Jeff and Biscuit saw:

This bull's name is Asteroid. Jeff and Biscuit saw him at the event.
These days, the bulls are just as popular as the riders.