Captain Mom's Log: Week 5: Day 34
I found bacon on my last excursion for provisions. This was my second chance. This time I wouldn't let my mind wander. I wouldn't burn it like last time. The crime almost got me booted out of the encampment. I separated the slabs of meat while Chief Mate sang at the top of his lungs from the top of the stairs, "Bacon Bacon Bacon Bacon!!!" His toothbrush still in his mouth so the "n" didn't quite make it out of his mouth. The bacon felt strange. Every pack is slightly different. Consistency, smell, greasy residue. I squeezed five pieces across the skillet. I always put as many as the pan can handle because I despise cooking bacon. The less amount of time I have to spend stretching apart the slimy flesh, the better. These monstrosities actually grew wider and I barely could fit the last piece. It overlapped every single strip as I shoved it in horizontally across the top. Bacon is supposed to shrink, not grow. The smell filled the house and the "Bacon...