Sunday, July 19, 2009

Meet my friend, Bum Etta...

Tonight was an ice cream social at our church. (I wound up not going because I have yet to sleep in since being back from Iowa.) This afternoon, my mom asked if we wanted her to make ice cream. Of course, we never turn down our mom's homemade ice cream. After lunch, my mom took my little brother to baseball practice and to what we assumed was the store.

My sisters and I decided that we would watch a movie and maybe take a nap in the process. Okay who are we kidding, we just wanted to find the right movie to take a nap to... In any case we were dozing off nicely when my mom came in and asked if we were going to the store any time soon to get the ingredients for the ice cream.


So we got up and ran out the door because we were on a schedule to get the ice cream made on time. I hesitated because I had on my pj shorts and one of my favorite softball t-shirts. They did not match in the slightest. My sister told me to stay, but I decided I had better go. I told my sister that I was going to stay in the car.

But then we arrived at the grocery store and she changed her tune.

"I really wish you'd come in with me so I make sure I get the right things."

I'm really sorry, but I have standards. And yet somehow, I went inside anyway praying that NO ONE I knew would be in the store.

My sisters tried to comfort me by pointing out people who looked like I did.

It didn't help and to top it off, they didn't have rock salt. So we had to make a trip to Wal-Mart. I had made it through one store there was no way that I could make it through another without seeing someone I know.

Wal-Mart didn't have any in stock either. Apparently everyone from First Baptist needed rock salt too. We sent our youngest sister to ask about salt possibly being in the back. While we were waiting, it happened.

We were talking about the upcoming wedding of our friend, Jessika when a lady from our church came up the aisle. I instantly pretended to be EXTREMELY interested in the flax seed behind me and my sister tried to stifle a laugh. What I really was doing was looking for enough space on the shelf to crawl up in there and hide!

Thankfully, she didn't say anything to us. But that isn't the end of this little story my friends.

Oh I was standing there feeling completely mortified it was then that a man in a full Irish kilt and regalia walked by. (I wish my phone wasn't so ridiculous or I would have taken a picture to show you.) He even had a feather on his beret.

I didn't feel like a leper anymore. I forgot about the fact that I looked like white trash. In fact, I felt better about what I was wearing.

And then I saw my reflection in the frozen section.

Bum Etta for sure.

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Hi y'all! The name's Samantha. You can call me Sam if you like. I am a lover to a boy I met at Falls Creek in the summer of 2005, that is a student of Jesus, a Sooner born and Sooner bred and when I die I'll be Sooner dead, Democrat by party, blonde to the core, and oldies but goodies kind of girl.
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