"Fried Chicken or Ferret, Ma'am?"

I went in Walmart last night after dropping the kids off at church. I needed some paper goods and sodas for Alyssa's party on Sat. night. Both the big boys (Kevin and Zac) were home sick and were wanting some comfort food. Since I had been up all night and day handing out tylenol, advil, nyquil, etc., the comfort food was going to have to come from another source. Since I was in Walmart, the Walmart deli was the obvious choice.

So I'm waiting for the lady to cook my fried okra, when I look at the lady next to me pull something out of her purse. She's showing it to the little girl in the next cart over. It is a varmit of some sort. I only saw it's head and it looked like a ferret, but she had it in a fleece pocket bag thing that was only about 5x5" square so it had to be something else. After she finishes showing the little girl, she folds the flap over and shoves it back in her purse, like it's a pack of gum or tube of lipstick. I was trying not to stare. I'm not sure how successful I was.

I really wanted to go over and ask her what it was and more importantly, "is that thing legal?", but fears of her responding with "hey, we go to the same church" stopped me before I let myself get those thoughts to my mouth. Unfortunately, this happens to me quite often. Out of my 1700 church members, I know, mmmm, about 40 well enough to identify them by name outside of the church walls. Last Monday night was the most recent incident. I was working out at the gym. (Don't be too impressed. First time I've been in 3 months.) I like my gym because it's on the other side of town from the church, and I like to sweat in anonymity. Our church just opened a new gym and it is not likely I will ever work out there. So here I am on the weight machines, doing some lat pulls, and a couple comes to work on the machine next to me. I thought they looked vaguely familiar, but I can't remember if I've seen them at the gym before or at my office or, horrors, at church. Yep, they said it. "We go to the same church. Our daughters are friends." I, of course, have no clue which daughter they're talking about and can't get my brain to focus on which kid has mentioned a friend named Sarah because I'm too busy mourning that my gym is no longer a "safe" place. Yes, it's owned by a church member, but he's never there when I'm there. And yes, I realize this is really stupid, for lack of a better word, but I just liked the fact that my gym was my private place and I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing my work out.

Sorry for the lengthy post today, but one thought just seemed to lead to another.