More Things You Can Do With a Muffin

I'm beginning to realize that muffins have a surprising range of uses. My regular readers may recall that I recently tried to use them to win a man's affection. (For the record, I don't think it worked. Time will tell.) This past Sunday, I found a revolutionary new use for my beloved muffins.

Allyson, her friend Gabby, and I were attending the Harvest America event at the massive AT&T stadium, where the Dallas Cowboys play. I recalled two things from our first experience with this Christian rally at the same venue:

• The food at the stadium is VERY pricey. Think $12 for a hamburger, $6 for a bottle of water. I may be exaggerating, but not by much. 
• Security is tight. You can't even bring a purse, let alone a cooler. 

So I studied the rules on both the stadium's website and Harvest America's. I learned that we could bring transparent plastic totes no larger 12" x 12", and we could bring water in the original manufacturer's bottle with the cap's seal unbroken. 

I filled three plastic makeup totes with sandwiches, mini chip bags, grapes, and some homemade blueberry muffins I'd made around bedtime the night before in response to a wild craving. I found three water bottles leftover from last week's camping trip and threw those, along with everything else, into a cooler.

After we'd found a parking space at the stadium, we emptied the cooler and started the trek to the entrance. 

"Make sure you don't open your water," I warned the girls. 

Two minutes later, Allyson reported that she'd accidentally opened her water. "I'll just throw it away," she said, heading toward a trash can near the security line. 

"No, no," I said hastily. "Just close it back up. Maybe they won't look that closely."

It turns out that they didn't have to look closely. As we approached the gate, an officer announced firmly, "No outside food or drinks." 

What?? Neither website had mentioned a thing about food, one way or the other. And I had followed their own rules about water bottles to a T. I clenched my fists and my teeth in frustration but decided not to make a scene.

Again, Allyson turned toward the trash can, but I headed her off. "We're not throwing all of this away. I didn't bring money for food, and we're going to be here for hours."

"What are we going to do with it?" Allyson asked.

"We're going to eat it." 

"Now? But I'm not hungry," Allyson whined. 

I looked at my phone. It was 4:45. "Just eat it," I ordered. "You will be hungry later, and there won't be anything to eat then."

So we found a curb under a tree and wolfed down our sandwiches. The girls were in a hurry because they wanted to get decent seats. I was in a hurry because I wanted to get out of the heat. I wasn't very hungry either, but I managed to choke down my tuna sandwich and chips. Gabby did the same, but Allyson only ate about two-thirds of her sandwich, and she wasn't hungry enough to eat barbecue chips, all that was left from our camping trip. I'd brought them along because I figured she'd eat them if she got hungry enough, but instead they ended up in the trash can. 

I stared at the grapes, unwilling to part with such an expensive and tasty organic treat. 

"Maybe I can stuff them in my bra," I suggested after a moment's pondering. The girls shrugged.

I was wearing a rather snug shirt with a built-in sports-style bra, so there wasn't much room to work with. First I tucked the bag into my cleavage, but the girls shook their heads. My bosom was decidedly lumpy in the middle. I took the bag out and divided the grapes into two piles on opposite ends of the baggie, then set the whole bag on top of my breasts, taking care to distribute the fruit symmetrically. 

"Nope," the girls said. Again, the lumps were clearly visible, symmetrical or not. 

"We're just going to have to eat them, too," I said. "I'm not throwing them away."

Allyson refused; she hasn't learned to like grapes, even grapes as tasty as these. Gabby and I each ate about ten of them, and she agreed that they were exceptionally sweet. 

Last, I took out the muffins and found them still frozen. Noo!! This was the treat I'd most looked forward to, but they were quite solid. 

I can't remember whose idea it was, but it was probably mine. My bra was too snug, but what about Allyson's? Would she have the guts to hide frozen muffins in her bra? Yes, she would!

She removed two muffins from their baggie and wrapped each in a paper towel. To our great amusement, they made shockingly convincing falsies!

Allyson was pretty pleased with her new look

"Won't the security guard notice that my boobs have grown?" Allyson asked. We assured her that he would not look that closely at her boobs, and that he surely had not taken a mental measure the first time he saw us. 

But what could we do with the third muffin? I tried stashing it in my shorts pocket, but the outline was clearly visible. I thought it rather resembled a Skoal can (smokeless tobacco), but the girls didn't think it would pass inspection. 

"Maybe you could put that one in your bra," Gabby proposed.

I nestled the baggie in my cleavage.

"You can't see it," Allyson said.

She was right. For once, that sports bra uni-boob proved quite useful. The muffin was undetectable. 

After we'd gotten our laughter under control, we chugged most of our waters and threw them and the rest of the grapes in the trash. Then we walked through three separate lines so as to avoid eye contact as we passed the checkpoint. 

As predicted, nobody batted an eye. We breezed right through with our contraband and then laughed all the way to our third-level seats. Once seated, we casually removed our muffins and put them in our now empty makeup totes. 

You know how forbidden fruit is supposed to taste the sweetest? Well, so do forbidden muffins. 

"Let me guess," my sister Emily remarked last night when I recounted the whole story, "you felt really guilty about breaking the rules, didn't you?" 

My answer: No. I did not feel one bit guilty for smuggling food into a Christian concert in my 12-year-old's bra. Instead, I felt exceptionally clever, and highly amused. I haven't laughed that hard since the time I gave Allyson's lemon muffins to my plumber.