There I was in Kohl's Sunday afternoon - just minding my own business - on a mission for new bras and panties.
I'd left the guys at home doing more manly things like building bike ramps and throwing footballs.
Besides, when it comes to comfort, fit, and style of foundation garments, wise buying decisions are crucial and concentration is a must. These things cannot be rushed.
Say it with me...Fight the frump and lift it up!
With an arm full of my favorite underwear, and several bras dangling on hangers from my fingers, who should I encounter on the way to the check-out but a family from our church.
Isn't that the way it always goes? Why couldn't I run into one of my girlfriends? We'd compare panty styles and cup sizes. Or, how about a sales clerk? Every run into one of those in a store?
So, small talk with the church family ensued.
"Fine, fine. We're good."
Maybe I can just shove this bundle of panties a little further under my arm.
"No, we haven't had the flu at our house, thank goodness."
How do I gracefully wad up these dangling bras?
Finally we said our good-byes and I was free to stand in a long line with my panties and bras in full view. At that point, the church family had already seen it all, so what did I have to hide?
This reminded me of another church family encounter I had recently, this time in the check-out lane at Kroger. I had a cart full of beer; we were having a party. And who should happen to wheel up in line behind me but our neighbor, who also goes to our church.
And she doesn't drink.
I know this because we once visited the Sunday School taught by her husband and he said, as part of the lesson, "We don't drink alcohol at our house because we feel it's not a godly example to our children. In fact, studies prove children who witness their parents drinking are 50% more likely to become alcoholics when they grow up."
So, there I was, with my stash of beer, making small talk with the non-drinking, church-going neighbor married to the Sunday School teacher.
Then along came a helpful grocery store clerk to unload all my alcohol, all the while loudly expounding on his love for beer!, wine!, and the awesome frozen drinks they once served him in Jamaica!
Now, as I walk the halls of my church, I can't help but think I may run into both of these families at the same time some blessed Sunday morning.
And they will greet me by saying, "Hello lace-panty-wearing, beer-guzzling size 34B".