On Saturday evening, I went to the grocery store to pick up some miscellaneous items for Easter dessert while Bart worked on the new bathroom sink.
I’d planned on painting that day, so I was wearing a sweatshirt, no makeup, and I had my hair in a ponytail.
The H-E-B by our house always has gobs of samples on Saturdays, and I passed a table giving out some quiche samples. Mmm. When I stepped up to the table, the woman in charge asked “Are you with her?” I wasn’t, of course, and told her so.
She said “I’m so sorry; you have to be sixteen to have a sample unless your parents are with you.”
Some things never change.
Ohhh, that’s terrible! And terribly funny. Sigh.
I think this story is great- almost as good as somebody mistaking you for a sixth grader when you were actually a college freshman. 🙂