i'm not a terrorist, that's my peanuts

Today we took the kids to an amusement park. It was raining most of the day, but when it stopped, we were able to hop onto the rides with zero lines. Some of the attendants even allowed us to ride twice. It was great. We brought our own food, hidden in the deep pockets of my fatigue pants. Yes, tactical gear isn't just for carrying ammunition and MRE's. Instead, I'm carrying PB&J sandwiches and zip-locks full of snacks. It beats wearing one of those ridiculous "fanny-packs". I was also wearing a rain poncho, which provided additional storage space. If we had eaten lunch at the park, it would have set us back an easy $50.

But the best moment for me was when one of the roller coaster attendants asked me what the "bulge" was in my poncho pocket - the pocket that sits over my waste. Hehehe. Obviously, I could have made this situation even more uncomfortable than it already was. Instead, I was honest.

"That's my peanuts. D'ya wanna see?"
:)

I even said it with a lisp to make it more ambiguous. He laughed as I revealed my ziplock of contraband peanuts.