Swimming with the Sharks

The Thrift Shop where Mrs. Jogger works is having a bag sale this morning. Everything you can stuff in one bag for $1 on selected items, mostly summer stuff that they want to clear out. Mrs. J was going to go over and take all the kids. I was lounging on the sofa, thinking seriously of taking a little nap while they were gone.

Suddenly, the phone rang. It's the Thrift Shop. Someone called in sick, and they want Mrs. J to work. Could I take the kids over?

Panic!

We get there maybe 5 minutes after the store opened. There are approximately a hundred billion little old ladies standing around the sale tables. Scraps of fabric are flying. I tentatively try to wedge into the crowd to see what's actually for sale. No one bites me, but that doesn't mean that no one was tempted. The Little Joggers all flee for the safety of the non-sale part of the store. I'm alone. I don't know anyone's size, and I have only the vaguest idea of what the kids like to wear.

More panic!

Anyway, I made it out alive, but it's not an experience that I want to relive any time soon.