There were big men in kilts. Little men in kilts. Tattooed men in kilts. Non-tattooed men in kilts. Girls in kilts. Kids in kilts. I'm kilted out for a year.
Seriously though, a kid in a kilt might be the cutest thing ever. I wish I had a picture. But I felt that as a bartender, it would have been super creepy if I was taking pictures of random people.
Bartending was actually my only foray into the Scottish Festival festivities. My family joined in. My parents camped and my sister drank. I babysat. A dog and a sleeping child, but not at the same time.
There is dancing.
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There are men throwing weights and hydro poles and such.
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There are bagpipes. Oh baby are there bagpipes. On the bright side, I wasn't sleeping there. My family was subjected to the bagpipes during the early hours of the morning.
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So what I actually did was bartended during Saturday and Sunday to raise money for my skating fundraising. Pretty easy way to make some cash. And it wasn't too bad. I finally learnt how to pour beer from a tap. I'm pretty proud of myself for that! It was pretty easy bartending, we just poured shots and wine and opened vodka coolers.
Then on Saturday night, rather than drinking, I babysat a sleeping child and watched The Vow. I think I made the right choice. Sometimes I feel like I should act my age and go out and party. Then I wake up feeling fantastic on a Sunday morning and am so glad that I act like a 45 year old mom of three.
