I went into our organic co-op (full-sized grocery store, really) this afternoon to pick up a few things along with a special order that had come in for me.
Strolling up and down the aisles, I saw something on a very bottom shelf that I wanted to check out. Because I need a new prescription in my "up close" glasses (which I have been very neglectful about obtaining in a timely manner), I knelt down on the floor so I could check out the fine print and pricing of the item in which I was interest.
There I was trying to do some figuring in my head, and I suppose I must have had a concerned look on my face (thinking, you know) when a sweet gal who works in the produce section came scurrying down the aisle and said, "Mama Pea (she used my given name, of course), do you need some help?"
"Huh?" I looked up at her and rather stupidly replied.
"Can I, um--uh, help you . . . do you . . . need some help?" the dear girl asked.
"Oh! Did you think I needed help getting up?"
Now I could tell she was a bit embarrassed. "Well . . . I mean, oh no, I just thought . . . " she mumbled.
For the record, although there are those who may think a portion of my brain cells are no longer firing reliably, I'm still in good shape physically and don't yet have any trouble getting up off the floor. Or ground. Or from peering onto the bottom shelf of a grocery store.
This whole little incident has convinced me that, vain though you may label it, I'm immediately starting a GoFundMe website so I can get a face lift. And perhaps some body shaping in the lift and tuck and rearrangement departments. Maybe even . . . a new prescription for my glasses.
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