Today I had the pleasure of watching my friends’ beautiful, sweet, fun, chatty, active gals. Aged six and three and a half. Lord help me, I took them to the farmer’s market, promising the playground as our first stop and gelato afterward. With the playground deemed unworthy, “too many babies,” I hustled the gals through the first produce stand we came to. Rows of bins at the perfect height for grabbing and tossing tomatoes, á la Bozo’s Circus. A small corn mountain, ready to be shucked on site. Grabbed the little globe eggplants right before liftoff. Tried to make a game of filling a bag with haricot verts and selecting ears of corn. Was scorned for buying purple onions. Bought a blueberry muffin from Celestial Kitchens to appease the hungry urchins. No wonder everyone else had their kids locked down in a stroller. Got the hell out of there as fast as we could. Spent about $15, but I can’t be sure.