I Am That Lady.

A couple of weeks ago KB and her BFF had a sleepover at our house, in preparation for the big lemonade stand we planned.

We made a run to Sams for all the necessities…Lemonade Mix*. Cookies*. Muffins*.

*I may have told a few people it was all freshly homemade, from my grandmother’s recipe collection. Lord, forgive me and bless the starving pygmies in Africa.

Somehow in the course of shopping at Sams, two giddy, hyperactive seven-year-olds ran off and left me to gather the necessities all by myself.

It was sample time in the grocery section, and they wanted to partake.

Did I say I was left to shop all alone?

Well, I wasn’t completely shopping all alone.

Somehow I ended up pushing my new friends Mia and Julie through Sams.

Yep, just me, Mia, and Julie….perusing the aisles at Sams.

And it just so happened that anytime anyone passed me on an aisle, there were no seven-year-olds in sight, so that I could say, “Oh, these dolls here? They belong to those two little girls right there…”

I got quite a few raised eyebrows.

One lady even asked me if I collect American Girl dolls.

“That’s one of those crazy ladies who takes her dolls everywhere and pretends they are her real children. She probably has tea parties with them at home.”

That’s what they were thinking.

I could tell.