We went to the Minnesota State Fair on Monday, despite the staggering heat and humidity.

“Are you a Fair person?” Minnesotans often ask each other this time of year. “Are you going to the Fair this year?”

I am probably not a Fair person. I like the bucket of cookies and the SkyGlider. I like the cows. I like that other people like the Fair, but it’s too hot and overwhelming for me.

When I was a college freshman I showed up for our week of orientation to discover one of the optional activities was taking a charter bus to the Minnesota State Fair. Having just left my tiny, rural hometown, and having been underwhelmed several times by my local country fair, I did not even consider the trip. Why would I? Why would I move all this way to live in a city and then kick off my urban experience by attending the local fair? No, thank you.

I don’t think I attended the State Fair until my senior year of college. This would be both the first and last time I would attend the Fair without kids in tow. I mostly just remember being impressed and confused about how well my friend was able to navigate us around.

We only stayed for a few hours this year. It was so hot. My oldest almost melted into the asphalt on the way to the bus stop. My bucket of cookies melted into one giant cookie while we were waiting at the bus stop.

Every year when we stumble out the exit of the fairgrounds I feel a sense of relief. I have done my Minnesota parental duty and purchased overpriced deep-friend candy bars for my kids. I have begged, once again, to go see the animals and have been disappointed, once again, by my kids’ lack of desire to see the animals. I have punished them by forcing them to go on Ye Olde Mill. I have sweated my ass off waiting for them to finish their rides in the Midway.

And now we can go home and we don’t have to do it again for a year.