Nobody reads these things anyway

When I first started this blog, I figured I'd document my adventure of moving to Austin, with my usual lack of planning for the scenario that I would no longer be new to Austin. Well, here I am, 3 years in, but fortunately, I was wrong on this account. After upgrading from a suburban rental home in a quiet neighborhood to a suburban home in a slightly less quiet neighborhood, lo and behold, it's an adventure all over again. While Pflugerville's offerings of a wide variety of off-the-shelf fast food and questionable locals on the east side of I35 are tempting to even the most seasoned Austinite, I had decided that I had enough of extreme suburbia to move a bit closer downtown. Interesting to say the least; I'm enjoying all the benefits from being closer to work and downtown to having the friendly locals kindly clean my vehicle of any items that have outlived their usefulness like my stereo and my backpack (sans laptop, fortunately).

But that's neither here nor there, I did experience an interesting situation while dining (brunching? It was early still...) in Maudie's the other day with a friend from Atlanta. Mid-breakfast-taco-with-serrano-and-tamale-bite, I couldn't help but notice a charming vignette of the modern American family. It was the giggling of the kid waving a piece of bacon around that caught my attention, and then his rotund mother's scowling the held it. Actually, rotund is too kind a word, this woman engulfed her chair as if you threw one of those popular-in-the-80's beanbag chairs on your little brother. After quickly admiring the engineer that thoughtfully designed the chair withstand 3x it's static load limit, I pieced the unfolding drama together.

Apparently the kid stole mom's last piece of bacon from her plate, and she was not happy. I feared for the kid as she might up and devour him too as it seems she had done with everything else that had broken the no-fly zone of her clutches. After making some veiled threats about the kid's favorite morning show characters, the bacon-hoarder finally relinquished control of the tasty pork to mom, who at this point was sweating from emotional turmoil of potentially lost bacon (I almost don't blame her, bacon is awesome, can't cover that topic in one post). Of course, I'm torn between laughing and crying out loud (reminder, start internet meme movement of COLing) while thinking, wow, maybe people just enjoy being grotesquely overweight.

So, to each their own, but next time I'm bringing a video camera. And ordering bacon.