Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on December 9, 2007 0 Comments

My local bookstore phoned this morning to say that the book I ordered last week had arrived.  I was welcomed to pick it up at my convenience. 

The news delighted me.  The book is a cookbook that I've owned for a couple of years.  That means that in the course of using it, I soiled it so badly that I had to buy a new copy.  A common occurrence in the enjoyment of my hobby.

In my kitchen life, these are the hazards I've come to accept and it is all right.  I have a few precious cookbooks that never touch the countertop—and several that have my tomato-stained thumbprints all over them.  No matter.  Cookbooks are for cooking!

Mini-Madame and I embarked on our errands: market, gift shopping for her friends and the bookstore.  I love to diddle about with Mini-Madame.  We giggle, we get snarky and we enjoy the time together.

We got to the bookstore and saw it was crowded.  No amount of crowd matters to us since we both love to tickle the spines of the books and lose our sense of time mindlessly browsing through the shelves.

As we saw the crowd at the counter dwindle, I winked the "let's get on it" wink and we lined up behind some nicely dressed young women.  Well, there were two younger women to be exact–and one slightly older looking woman.

We received shopping assistance simultaneously:
I said, "I'm here to pick up the book you ordered for me" as the clerk quickly replied, "No problem, Mme. Donna, I have it right over here!"

At the same time, the older looking woman said, "I'd like to put these two books on my credit card please."

I glanced at her and smiled.  She thought I was being friendly which was fine with me, but I was smiling because I read both of her selections and hated both of them.  I just didn't know how to tell her they sucked and saw no point in ruining her gift purchases.

Mini-Madame browsed through a few of the itty-bitty paperbacks that commonly adorn the book store check-out area as I overheard the Older Looking Lady remark to the two younger women in our line,

"Hey you two are twins, aren't you?"

Well any fool could see that but what came next had me holding my breath until I left the store and could release it in peals of laughter with Mini-Madame.

She said, "Hah!  Twins!  Tell me, how can you each tell which one you are?  By birthmarks or what?"

Please?  Really? 

About the Author ()

Leave a Reply