Send Out the Clowns.

I took Vincent to our township's Touch A Truck this past weekend. It was really cool. All manner of large vehicles - firetrucks, ambulances, bulldozers, school buses and the like are parked in a large parking lot for kids to climb on and sit in. Horns honk, sirens wail, photos snap and all is well.

About forty minutes in, Vincent sees a kid wearing a balloon animal hat and asks me for one. I scan the lot and notice a stand where said hats are being fashioned. I also notice a stout, orange-coiffured clown making them. Crap. Vincent hates clowns. Always has. Seems to be an instinctual thing. So I carefully say, "Vincent. You can absolutely have one of those hats but there's a clown making them over there. Do you want to go with Daddy to go get one?"

Response? "I want to go home now."

My question is this: WHY ARE THERE FRIGGIN' CLOWNS EVERYWHERE? It seems like any place that's remotely related to kids calls in the clown patrol thinking all kids like people with crazy makeup, ridiculously long ties, and giant plastic shoes. Farmer's market? Barbecue? Community Day? Car Wash? Church? Call in Flozo, Crozo, and Dozo. We gotta keep the kids entertained.

Wikipedia states, "Clowns spread in cultures of any time and place, because they meet some deeply rooted needs in humanity: violation of taboos, the mockery of sacred and profane authorities and symbols, reversal of language and action, and an ubiquitous obscenity." I can understand all that but how did they become so widespread in the world of child entertainment? I mean - plenty of people make a nice secondary living out of "clowning." I have no problem with a family ordering one for a kid's birthday. The clown's presence was requested. My problem is with what I call, clownkrieg. This is when a clown appears unexpectedly to completely destroy all semblance of a child's fun time. We parents have to spend the rest of the day explaining that the clown wasn't real, will not come home with us and will of course wash its makeup off in the shower when it gets home.

I have no personal issue with clowns. I'm cool with you guys and gals. It's just that my son is scared of you. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't be around when we go to touch some trucks.

Thank you. Ed. Note: Don't feel bad, Uncle Kevin. We know you only dressed up for your nephew's birthday because your sister asked you to. Vincent doesn't hold it against you. I think.