Forty or so years ago, I went to the Minnesota State Fair. All I remember is that my younger sister and my dad were hurt by an errant cable that took them for an unintended and dangerous ride. To be honest, I remember the stories of the incident at the fair more than I remember the actual incident itself. Or the fair.

I've not been to a state fair since, except for when a has-been band or two (Jefferson Starship and .38 Special anyone?) headlined at the fairgrounds. I'm not sure if the horrible events of forty years ago scarred me forever, squelching my desire for fried foods at fantastically obscene prices and unregulated (or seemingly so to a paranoid such as myself) amusement rides at similarly obscene prices, or if there's some other deep-seated reason why I've never attended the state fair as an adult.

Becoming a grandma changes much, though, and one of the most recent changes has been my state fair attendance record. Yes, folks, my desert visit in October included a trip to the state fair.

I must admit, it was a far better occasion than my first fair visit, possibly because I steered clear of fried foods and flying cables. More probably, though, because I attended it with Bubby, Megan and Preston.

Being a grandma who likes to participate in my grandson's "firsts," the day was one for the history baby books as I got to ride with Bubby on his first-ever state fair ride. Here's a quick look at the fun we had at the fair:

In addition to typical fair attractions, there also was a life-size, animatronics dinosaur exhibit we enjoyed. Well, mostly enjoyed. Bubby was rather hesitant at first, but by the time we reached the end and he got to dig in the massive sandbox for fossils, I think he'd become a fan of dinosaurs. Pretty much. As long as they were nothing but bones. And didn't make noises. Or move.

It was perfect timing for introducing Bubby to the Hatch-n-Grow dinosaur egg, but, alas, the egg I carried in my Grandma Bag didn't survive the trip uncracked.

But that's okay. I have more eggs and will surely pack one in my Grandma Bag for another try during my visit at Thanksgiving. And after having the bejeezus scared out of him by the life-size T. Rex and its cousins, I'm pretty sure Bubby won't be frightened by an itsy-bitsy hatching baby dino.

Assuming, that is, that I can cushion the egg well enough in my suitcase this time to survive the wild and wacky airport baggage handlers, who are far scarier than hatching baby dino eggs. And errant amusement-ride cables, too.

Today's question:

What's most memorable about your past visits to the state fair?

I recently ran across a pretty nifty gift for Bubby: Hatch-N-Grow dinosaur eggs!

How awesome is that!?

I ordered the eggs, they arrived, and I was quite excited to try one out before popping a few in the mail to Bubby, just to ensure it wasn't totally lame. (Sea monkeys anyone?)

Here's how it works:

I placed the egg -- the size of a regular chicken egg -- into a glass of water as directed. Per the package, I should have a little dinosaur head cracking through within 24-48 hours.

And I did!

Very cool! Get a load of that cute little dino grin!

Despite the "Age 3+" notation on the package, I just knew Bubby would love watching the dinosaur hatch. So I planned to send him not just one, but two packages, just in case he wanted twice the fun ... or just in case Megan wanted to use one to amaze the 4-year-olds in her classroom.

Megan called the other night to confirm the time of our weekly Skype session, and I told her about the very cool dinosaur egg, my practice hatch, and my plans to send Bubby a couple in the mail.

"He won't like that," she said.

"What? It's a hatching dinosaur! It's so cool! He'll love it!"

"No. He won't. He'll be scared of it," she assured me.

"Um, I don't think so," I responded. "I'm going to show him during our Skype session and you'll see. He's going to love it!"

We proceeded to Skype and I could barely contain my excitement as I grabbed the glass of water containing the magnificent emerging dinosaur and held it toward the webcam so Bubby could see.

He grew silent. And slowly leaned back into Megan for protection.

"It's a dinosaur!" I smiled and explained, trying to turn him on to the delights of the mini dino.

"Scary," he said so quietly that Megan had to translate.

"He's two, Mom. That's scary to him," Megan said.

I couldn't believe it. Yeah, the recommended age is three and up, but I figured that was because some little kids might eat pieces of the cracked shell. Or drink the water. Or bite off chunks of the dinosaur once it was fully grown. Not Bubby, though. He wouldn't do that. He'd be fascinated by the emerging prehistoric figure, I was sure.

But he wasn't. And isn't. And won't be for quite some time, apparently.

So I'll be packing away the boxes of eggs I purchased for Bubby. Unlike real eggs, they won't go bad. And I'm sure that by the time he's three, he'll be more than ready to plop an egg in a glass and keep a constant eye on the dinosaur's progress as it cracks through the egg.

In the meantime, I'll keep a constant eye on my dinosaur, eagerly awaiting the day it breaks completely free from the egg.

Maybe once it does I'll then show the fully hatched dino to Bubby during a Skype session. Maybe it's the egg that scares him! I'll just have the adorable mini dinosaur ready and waiting to surprise him during a Skype visit.

Of course I'll have to ask Megan first. As hard as it is to admit, Megan obviously knows better than Gramma.

At least when it comes to Bubby.

Sheesh ... this grandma gig isn't as cut and dry as one might think!

Today's question:

Have you ever had a gift-giving experience fall stupendously flat?