When I was a kid and my parents could still stand being within a city block of one another, I was often dragged along on incredibly long car trips to furniture and fireplace tradeshows, the largest being High Point Market in North Carolina.
Every time we went, my parents would pack armfuls of pamphlets and paper into the car, picking up samples and arguing pros and cons of one unit over another. Simply put, it was business. I wouldn't wander around with them much, though; normally I'd be dumped in a kid's area with plenty of other snot-nosed children whose parents tugged them along to these big grown-up hullaballoos.
There wasn't much for kids to do at these things, my parents said.
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