When asked what three words best described me, Kels quickly replied:
Ripped
Rebel
Ninja
Two of the three traits proved useful on our night on the town this weekend. Out trip started out innocent enough at the Farmer's Market. (I still find it extremely ironic that the Farmer's Market lacks any actual, you know, farmers. It's not like they're in short supply around here.)
Instead, there are seven and half small booths selling anything from
authentic Italian bread to custom-made, ruffly baby paraphernalia that
all have googly eyes and ears attached somewhere. This week there was
even a creepy gypsy woman who would give you your fortune for a nickel.
(Alright, so I made up the gypsy woman, but that would be really,
really cool/creepy)
After three loops around the booths, which took us approximately 45 seconds, we branched off to paint the town red. That's right, me, Kels, and Bost being pushed in the stroller. Rebels without a cause.
Unfortunately, all the stores closed at five, and the only thing remotely exciting that happened was me daring Bost to ask the high school girls at the Sno Shack for their phone numbers. He chickened out.
So we manufactured a little small-town fun:
We sent the city of Rexburg into a frenzy when astonished firefighters
and citizens alike panicked at the sight of 'Extreme' wildfire
conditions.
The good news: I changed it back to 'Moderate' before all fireworks this side of the Rockies were banned for life.
The bad news: Smokey the Bear's foot got run over by one of the fire trucks speeding off to decrease the wildfire conditions.
Ripped
Rebel
Ninja
Two of the three traits proved useful on our night on the town this weekend. Out trip started out innocent enough at the Farmer's Market. (I still find it extremely ironic that the Farmer's Market lacks any actual, you know, farmers. It's not like they're in short supply around here.)
After three loops around the booths, which took us approximately 45 seconds, we branched off to paint the town red. That's right, me, Kels, and Bost being pushed in the stroller. Rebels without a cause.
Unfortunately, all the stores closed at five, and the only thing remotely exciting that happened was me daring Bost to ask the high school girls at the Sno Shack for their phone numbers. He chickened out.
So we manufactured a little small-town fun:
Regular Rebel Ninja switching the wildfire conditions
from 'Moderate' to 'Extreme'
The good news: I changed it back to 'Moderate' before all fireworks this side of the Rockies were banned for life.
The bad news: Smokey the Bear's foot got run over by one of the fire trucks speeding off to decrease the wildfire conditions.
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For more posts by Jmac, head on over to The Daddy Diaries! :-)
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