ON CRISPY BACON, NEW LINEN BAGS, AND GIRL'S NIGHT OUT

So, here's how my Saturday went down. In the morning, we went to our local Farmer's Market. This place is awesome. We go every Saturday morning and there is fantastic food, live bands, political protestors, and all the fresh flowers and produce you can imagine. We always come away with about a dozen peaches the size of grapefruits and a gorgeous, fresh baked loaf of bread (we try a new flavor every week). There is a lady who sells handmade wooden toys for about $1 a piece, so my daughter always gets to choose one. You know, little spinning tops or yo-yos or something like that. She loves to take the money and give it to the lady herself. It's all very exciting. Well, this week, we passed by the booth of a lady (I hate to call her that because she was, like, my age) selling hand-made bags. They were gorgeous. She had small and large totes, diaper bags, and even covers for Boppie pillows. I couldn't resist. For some time (like 3 years) I have been lamenting the fact that I never take my scriptures or manuals to church because my diaper bag is always full of baby stuff and I don't have anything else to carry them in. Well, my friends, that problem is solved:

My new bag and I thoroughly enjoyed church today.

And we looked good doing it.

Anyway, to continue my Saturday rundown, that afternoon we headed to the local Aquatic Center. It is one of those with a playground in the center of a really shallow pool. It is heaven for my daughter. We went with friends and all snagged some righteous lawn chairs in the front row. Well, sitting right behind us is a guy we like to call Crispy Bacon. Let me explain: He is about 45, tall and thin, and about 7 shades darker than any naturally occurring skin tone on earth. He spends just about every day laying out at the pool. Alone. No family. No wife. No kids. Just him. It is creepy and just not right. He wears those shorts that are short and loose and have the slits up the sides. You know, the kind marathon runners wear. His skin is like shoe leather. He gives me the heebie-jeebies and absolutely ruins for me the fact that I LOVE a good slice of crispy bacon. Because of him, I don't think I can ever eat bacon again. Well, at least not for a day or two.

Later that night, we had friends over for the BYU football game. At around half time, all the girls were thoroughly bored so we ditched the husbands with the sleeping babies and went to get Frostys at Wendy's (with fries to dip in them, of course). We were sitting and chatting and gossiping and having a great time. Well, the 14 year old cashier is out wiping down all the tables and then comes up to us to tell us that they close at 10 and we needed to leave. It was currently 10:07. WE GOT THROWN OUT OF WENDY'S. They actually closed while we were still sitting there. I didn't know if I should be proud or embarrassed. Maybe a little of both. We felt like we were in high school. It was great.

And that is the story of my Saturday.