Noah’s gotten obsessed with the claw games at the grocery store. Every time we check out we have to make a pit stop at the “arcade” (playing it fast and loose with the word arcade, but that’s beside the point). I don’t know if it’s his recent obsession with Toy Story or all the lights and buttons but either way, he loves them. He don’t normally actually play the games, just the demos and push buttons because that’s all he’s really interested in. I was standing beside him while he “played” the racing game last night when a preteen walks up and blindsided me…”excuse me, ma’am”. Yep, she ma’amed me. She went on to offer Noah a stuffed Santa she had won from one of the games. A very sweet gesture but it came at a price. Mid-twenties isn’t old enough to get ma’amed, is it? I wanted to go into a lengthy discussion with her about how I wasn’t really that old and she didn’t need to say ma’am but then it hit me. I’ve got two kids, a mortgage, a I’ve been driving for 10 years…maybe I’m flirting with the ma’am line after all.
(an old maternity picture courtesy of Rainwater photography because recent pictures of me are few and far between 🙂 )