"Is that for your Grandbaby?"

After my melodramatic "I may never post again" post last week, something happened to me yesterday that cannot go without mention, mostly because I can't stop thinking about it! So, I'll take a few minutes of my lunch hour (and full advantage of the quick internet access) to share.

Every Sunday, there is an awesome flea market in Osage, just seconds away from Morgantown. After going a couple of times to look around, we decided to rent a few tables and try to unload our own stuff. Yesterday was the second time we've set up shop at the flea market. The whole flea market experience will be the subject of a future post, but for now, I gotta tell you about a conversation I had there.

To pass the time, I took my current knitting project -- a baby hat. I had several conversations with different people about the project and knitting in general, but one particular conversation--with a woman who appeared to be about my age, mind you, maybe a few years older--stuck out:

Browser: "What are you making?"

Me: "A baby hat."

B: "For your grandbaby?"

M: "No, for my own child. I'm due next month."

B: "Oh, congratulations!"

Let's rewind in case you missed it: "FOR YOUR GRANDBABY?"

One more time: "FOR YOUR GRANDBABY?"

No really, did you catch that: "FOR YOUR GRANDBABY?"

Granted, I was sitting down at a table, somewhat hunched over my needles and yarn so maybe she couldn't see my belly, BUT STILL!!!

Maybe, if I had given birth during my senior year of high school and that baby gave birth/got someone knocked up during her/his senior year of high school, I could conceivably be knitting something for my grandbaby. But really, is that a person's first thought when they see me knitting??? "Oh look, she must be making something for her grandbaby!"

*sniff, sniff*

Some other thoughts I've had while mulling this over...and over...and over:

-- Apparently, I look older rather than younger when I don't wear make-up. I've grown so accustomed to people thinking I'm about 5-10 years younger than I actually am, that this idea was particularly shocking. "But I'm not even wearing make-up," I thought. You know what that means? Haggard. I look haggard. Maybe it had something to do with the fact we didn't go to bed until after midnight and then had to get up at 4:00 a.m. to be at the flea market by 5:00 to set up. But even if there's a reason I looked haggard, there's no escaping I must have looked haggard.

*sniff, sniff, whimper, sniff*

-- Danny suggested (after recovering from side-splitting laughter AT MY EXPENSE) the woman immediately thought of a grandbaby because she has grandbabies! Maybe it would have made her feel better if I had grandbabies, too. Yeah, whatever. Nice try, Danny.

-- Please do not judge our fair state and tell me that this only happened because I was at a small-town West Virginia flea market. You know I could've had the same conversation in any state at The Walmarts.

-- She might have said "grandchild." But really, doesn't "grandbaby" make it a much better story?

Okay, I'm going to go cry now.