Crafty Bastards has come and gone. In spite of some ill-timed rain, wind, chill, and drear, we count it a resounding success.

But let’s go back to the beginning. The beginning was 5:15 Saturday morning, when we peeled ourselves out of bed. We stumbled around for a bit, pretending to “get ready” but mostly just bumping into furniture in our predawn stupor, and eventually left around 5:45. We arrived at the site of Crafty Bastards around 7:30, not really ready for prime time, but willing to fake it.

Alas, all manner of confusion and calamity ensued. As we were about to set up our booth we learned that it was in the right place, but with the wrong tent. So we moved the wrong tent out and the right tent in.

Then we learned that we had the right tent but were in the wrong booth. So we moved the right tent from the wrong booth to the right booth before learning that although the tent we had was still the right tent, the new booth was the wrong booth and the first booth was the right booth, so we moved the tent again.

We were just about to unload our boxes when we learned that not only were we in the wrong booth, but, once again, we had the wrong tent. So we got a new booth and a new tent.

With some trepidation, we began to set up. It is worth repeating that we were the guests of Politics and Prose, DC-based independent bookstore extraordinaire. We were pleased to see our banner hanging there with theirs.

But Robbi made a special sign to make it clear that we knew exactly who was calling the shots.

Even though we have published 37 books to date, we have learned from much experience that one book rises above all others when it comes to capturing the imagination of people walking by at fairs and festivals.

The other eye-catching book is Ten Thousand Stories, which also got its own display.

Of course, we brought a handful of the other books as well.

We hung the onesies on the tent pole, where they attracted satisfying gasps of surprise and delight as well as a few raised eyebrows.

Apparently, there are some people who don’t agree with our assessment of babies.

Fortunately, there are plenty of others who do.

There may be nothing more gratifying than listening to someone read your book and laugh.

Unfortunately, the weather gods saw fit to make the day a rainy one.

But other than a few wet gusts that smeared the covers of a book or two, we stayed dry enough.

At the end of the day, our friends from Politics and Prose packed up their books. Robbi seized on the opportunity to declare herself queen of Politics and Prose.

It was cute and endearing, kind of like the summer Senate page standing in front of the Washington Monument and pretending to be president.

Moments later, the authorities showed up and ushered Robbi back where she belonged, off to the side, out in the rain, harmless and soggy.

Thank you again, friends at Politics and Prose, for the honor of sharing your tent. We’ve never felt craftier.

(Though, I’m certain that, at some point, we’ll feel like bigger bastards.)