It's a wonder Chris and I have never

been either physically ejected or asked to leave a store.

Saturday morning he came over to help me move some things I'm giving to my Aunts (They have a thrift/antique store). When we got to mom's house and unloaded, I ran in to use the rest room.

My three week overdue (because of stress I'm sure) period had landed, and it wasn't being subtle. My slacks and underpants were not fit to wear. So, I rooted through the clothes that I had brought with me. I found underpants, roughly 308 shirts, but not one pair of slacks.

*cue the Jaws music* Time to look in mom's closet. I found a skirt that fit. It was a floor length, casual beige cotton, with a ton of trim and embroidery. I've seen that style of skirt called "bohemian" "hippy chic" or "Renaissance". Either way it's more foo-foo than Poodle day at a dog show.

I like simple clothing; this explains my shuddering. I stepped out of mom's bedroom wearing my shirt (tan, simple, unadorned), my mother's beige "a trim store exploded" floor length skirt, with my well-broken-in sneakers peaking out from the hem. Since I'd known we'd be moving boxes, I wasn't wearing make up, and my hair was thrown up in a quick bun held by a hair clip.

Chris looked at me and said, "So we're eating at a drive through right?" I rolled my eyes and told him what happened as I climbed into his truck.

Store # 1: We stopped at a gas station to get a few things. I asked the clerk for a small bag since the skirt didn't have pockets. My exact words were "May I have small bag?" The clerk looked at me oddly. I said, "The little one that people use for one beer will be fine."

Chris couldn't help it, it was the skirt. It was too much for his sarcastic nature to hold in.
He said "I didn't think that Mennonites were supposed to expose themselves to corrupting things like beer." I shot him a very non-Mennonite-like look, all while his lips twitched.

When we stepped outside I said, "You should be glad I didn't BUY a damn beer after how this mornings been going. And I don't even like beer." We were laughing as we drove off.


Store # 2:We had lunch and since we were right next to it, we went into the Dollar General Store to see if they had a pill splitter. As we passed a shelf of towels, Chris starts telling me that his partner doesn't like big fluffy towels; he likes the thin waffle weave ones.

Keep in mind, we weren't whispering, just the normal voice you use with a shopping buddy. Oh and I was dressed like a "Mennonite minus the bonnet" (pffft whatever).

Me: Really?! Les loves the waffle towels too. I just don't get it. As far as I'm concerned, they are just dishtowels on steroids"

Chris: Yeah It's not like I have to be completely, totally dry. A few water drops won't kill me in exchange for the comfort of terry cloth.

Me: Oh I know. I was surprised Les liked them. I mean he's got hair. Lots of hair. After a shower I spend most of my drying time on my hair and crotch. But Les..He's just..He's just one big crotch...

Oh yeah, we cracked up. He understood what I meant and that only added to the humor.

STORE #3: Chris needed to drop of a movie he'd rented. As we were getting back into his truck, I asked if he wanted to rent a horror movie, then immediately retracted it saying I really didn't feel up to it.

Me: I think I'm just going to go home and cuddle with my heating pad. You know what! I want a realistic horror movie scene. You know a heating pad, and Midol Vs a tsunami-like period, with clots the size of grilled cheese sandwiches.

We were cracking up and grossed out at the same time.

Me: Yeah sorry, That one was a bit over the top. But we always have a good laugh together.