They prey on 9-year-olds. One of them made my son cry. And tried to blame it on Super D.
As we walked past a carnival game, the carny "dropped" a baseball, which rolled toward my son. Being the good boy that he is, C reached down, picked it up, and took it back to the guy. Of course, the con man immediately started in on his line, offering C a free throw. Super D simply said, "No." My husband wasn't born yesterday. He knows a set-up when he sees one. C begins to cry, and the carny had the gall to say, "Good job, Dad!" He doesn't know how lucky he is that one of those baseballs didn't make contact with his forehead.
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