We had a rather unusual weekend. We went to a peanut festival.
Over the many years, we’ve spent our weekends at baseball games, our nations capital, museums, musical events, the occasional Octoberfest. We’ve spent several, several weekends at home. Never once have we gone to a peanut festival, but when in Rome!
I knew there would be a parade so when I was getting AB dressed I suggested a dress I thought was festive. She said the dress was “too much like another country flag. Kind of like an Africa flag. This is an America parade.” She settled on her disco dress.
The calendar may have said it was the first day of Fall, but the thermometer read over 100*. I was sweating from every part of my body as I waited in line. My foundation was melting. Mascara was in little drips under my eyes. I had put sunscreen on my face but not my feet and they were burning as I waited. I had an ice cream stain on my shirt. My once tidy hair was in a messy bun. I truly thought I was going to pass out. The lady two groups behind me was a know-it-all who wouldn’t stop talking. For almost an hour she shared her “knowledge” on every topic someone brought up. I am not my best self in the heat and I almost snapped. The only reason I didn’t was the lady directly behind me made the incorrect statement that everyone in line was a democrat. Since I am not, I didn’t want to give her stories for her next dinner party about the conservative girl who hit the woman in the head with a Jimmy Carter book about faith.
Eventually, I got to the front of the line and saw the man of the hour. It was a very quick in and out meeting. The man behind Jimmy’s right shoulder gave enough glares to get the point across that it wasn’t social hour. Keep moving, people! Get your signature and go back out into the heat!
I cannot believe you met him!! So cool!!!!