Rumspringa: Or, How I Lost My Hair But Kept My Pride

"Would you rather be a Mormon or an Amish?"  - Schmatie

Did you know Iowa City is deep in the honey pot of both? We weren't that interested in building handcarts and walking to Utah but the Amish had cheese curds, cheap herbs, and butter powder to sell to us.

Just as long as you keep your hands out of their meat jar. The Amish don't play that. Unless of course it's during Rumspringa, the Amish spring break. Then anything goes; hand in the meat jar, meth addiction, bed courtship, even buttons are kosher during Rumspringa. The Devil's Playground left us with a lot of unaswered questions (where does a rebelious Amish teenager get a car from?) and a lot of pride in our post-8th grade educations. Which is exactly what the Amish are worried about in the first place.

After a day full of prideful activities, we had some penace to do.

To atone for my normal day-to-day vainglory (see above) I let two Natural Nnackers -in-training have a go at my hair,  which had been fast on its way towards feathered coif status. Now it comes in Pony-Hawk or Yoder Bowl options.

I also realized that I'd been wearing button-fly jeans all day:

Katie finally gave into her deepest desires and pulled the trigger on the Snuggies purchase. Which, as it turns out, is actually Amish approved loungewear.

Then of course there was Joanna and her gaudy triple-dessert birthday Pastry Duel. What better way to piss off those pacifist Amish than to host a duel with 3 entrants? And look how proud she is of that mud filled profiterole too. She might as well have put up a lightning rod.

Meanwhile, I was busy matching my tie and sweater to the cupcakes. My profiteroles might look like shit but I can still make a v-neck look good, even without any "fancy" cardigan buttons.

 

Then there's Nick's pie; its blueberries all fattened up and juicey. If that's not prideful I don't know what is.

Happy birthday Joanna.

Happy Birthday from wbarnebey on Vimeo.