Hey Lady

One of my unfortunate nicknames for Abby is Lady or Lady Friend. I say unfortunate because it reminds me more of an old-fashioned term your home economics teacher would've used for your period than a term of endearment for your daughter. But every once in awhile "Hey Lady" happens.

Like yesterday. It was a potentially warm and sunny morning and I decided Jake and Abby needed a water/sand table. We quickly dressed, went to Target, and picked up the first water/sand table we found, along with some buckets, watering cans and plastic fish ("so they can be dead in the water," Jake told me.)

The whole trip was running less than an hour. We went to the express lane and were checking out when an impatient woman pulled in behind us. The kids were excited about their toys. They wanted in the cart, out of the cart, to push the cart, to ride on the cart. The box was unwieldy. Apparently we were taking too much time. About the same time my transaction finished and the woman behind pushed her cart precariously close to mine, Abby decided to climb out of her seat.

"Hold on there Lady!" I said. To Abby. But the woman behind me didn't know that. Rather than explain, I got our stuff together, corralled the kids and left.

I was actually feeling a little embarrassed on the way to the car. "So what if she thinks I was talking to her. I wasn't," I thought.

But you know what. "Hold on there" is right. I'm sorry if my excited kids are delaying your enjoyment of your newly purchased Mint Milanos, handbag and lawn chair. It's Saturday. Unless you're a heart surgeon on your way to Baylor, lighten up ... Lady!