In the check-out line at my local Market Basket. My bagger today isn’t Jesus, but instead a woman. Let’s call her Sally.
Sally (eyeing my purchase of Diego Swimmy Diapers): How old’s your little one?
Me: He’s two.
Sally (who looks no older than 25): Ah. Mine are 6, 10 and 12.
Me: Hmm. Goes fast, I bet.
A few beats of silence.
Sally (eyes my Johnson’s Baby Bath Oil): You want to be really careful using this stuff with your two-year old, though.
Me (Alarmed. Was there a recall? Is it hazardous if swallowed?): Oh, really!? How come?
Sally: It’s just not very good protection for the little ones. They could get a really bad sunburn.
Good Lord, woman. I’m not using it as sunblock on my baby!
Me: Oh. K. Well, thanks.
Where’s Jesus when you need him?
Confessions of a Serial Swooper 