Wednesday, April 11, 2012


I'm on vacation in St. George. It's awesome here. We've been swimming every day and are all tan and rashy from the chlorine (at least I hope it's from the chlorine). We blew off the national parks in favor of just hanging 'round. It's hard with a 4 month old in tow. The 4 month old has bad diarrhea by the way, which has been a real style-cramper for us. There are outlets here and believe me I have been trying to shop, but that diarrhea thwarts me at every turn.

Like today. We were at the gap outlet and I had a pile of stuff to try on and Ruby was all "mom, is there a change box for you?" and what she meant was a dressing room. So I said "to the change box!" and while we were in the "change box" old Wellsy decided to have a dry-heave-inducing, soul-paralyzing, sense of smell-damaging blowout. So I had to cut everything short.

So after the blowout, we were all hungry. Hard to believe anyone could eat after experiencing what we had just been through, but I guess dry heaving can sometimes increase your appetite. So we went to Five Guys for me with a promise to go to McDonald's for the kids (there's no accounting for taste). There I was, ordering my usual, which if you want to know is a little bacon burger with lettuce and tomato, a large order of fries, and a large diet coke. I call it the "cancer and cellulite special" of course. So the woman taking my order says "you know a large fry can feed like three or four people." and I says to her, "yeah?" and then she was like "well I just wouldn't want you to waste all that money...." "uh....okay. I'll have a regular," I said, my eyes downcast, my already fragile ego shattering to pieces. What I want to know is, was this lady a. Trying to imply that I am too fat to eat a large fry, b. trying to imply that I may not be able to finish a large fry myself? And since when has Five Guys, who always accepts me for who I am, no matter what I like to put on (or keep off, in my case) my burgers started splitting hairs over the size of my fries!?

That's when I knew it was time to go home. I need to get back to Rexburg, where things make sense; where nobody ever questions the size of the fries I buy and where there aren't any good clothing stores with change boxes for me to change a dirty diaper in. I was flying this week . . . a little too close to the sun.

Ps this was typed on my iPad so please disregard any weird spacing or spelling etc.


  1. So at Five Guys they downsize you and at McDonald's they supersize you. No accounting for taste is right!