Mmmm, Saturdays. I used to look forward to this glorious day because it meant Saturday morning cartoons. You know, back in the day when cartoons were reserved for one morning and we didn’t have entire channels dedicated to nothing but animation. I would wake up early and creep to the living room where I would turn the volume knob down low before turning on the tube. Again, this was before remote controls – when you had to actually get up to change the channel. The tube would pop on and there would be The Littles or The Carebears. My eyes would feast on as much 2D happiness as possible before my mother would wake up and announce it was time to clean the house. Cursed Saturday morning chores!
For awhile Saturday mornings represented sleeping in. Soaking in the last bit of slumber… rolling over to the cool spot on the pillow… denying that the patch of sunlight streaming in the window was indeed noonday light. Of course I am talking about this magical time. That tiny sliver of time nestled between “living with mom” and “having children”. Because once you have children there is no more sleeping in. I have failed at producing lazy, sleepy children. I have even failed at raising quiet children. Goodbye magical Saturday mornings.
But perhaps I have arrived at the most wonderful stage of Saturdays. The Bacon Saturday!! Say it with me, “Mmmmmmmm bacon….” My husband discovered a mini-mart tucked away in a far corner. The mini-mart owners have their own farm and they butcher their own meat. My hubby purchased 15 pounds of bacon. Fifteen glorious pounds. Edmund can keep the White Witch’s Divinity…. I have my bacon. I have always been a fan of bacon but this stuff… it is more than mere bacon. I think the butcher feeds his pigs manna and lets them drink Starbucks. Have you ever had bacon melt in your mouth? Literally melt??
I have to go now. You are interupting my bacon eating.