My next-door neighbors (not the new neighbors, but the retired couple on the other side) quite often take care of their young grandchildren in the late afternoons. The kids like to come over to talk through the fence when I take "Fudge" outside after work. (The little girl--she's about four--can't quite wrap her head around the fact that his name is "Pudge," and she keeps substituting "Fudge" instead. It's cute.)
Yesterday the little boy--he's about five--looked over at the super carnival fun festival extravaganza and said, "man, they sure do got a lot of stuff over there."
Yes, they sure do.
See, even a five-year-old thinks it's excessive. Heh. And he's a pretty sharp little guy. He noticed the Shih-Tzu (or maybe it's a Lhasa Apso--something along those lines) that's been hanging out over there a bit recently (I think it belongs to her mom), and said, "they should be careful not to go down the slides headfirst...they might get their faces in dog poop." Hee!