Last year I blogged about going to the store the day before Thanksgiving. I didn’t learn my lesson. I did it again today.

The spice aisle was still packed.

For a variety of reasons, I was feeling grumpy and out of sorts. I had my baby with me, and she was dressed in a pink, ruffly shirt that had a kitten on it, and pink pants with that same kitten printed in a smaller pattern. Pink and white sneakers finished off the outfit. I did have a pink bow for her in the car, and it is truly a bow you can see from space. When she wore it last Sunday, somebody told me it looked like she was wearing a satellite dish. One man said that my bows remind him of the Munchkins from the Wizard of Oz, you konw, the ones that pop up out of the bushes with big funky things on their heads. Still another mom said that having a bow you can see from space is rather helpful, because I’ll never lose my daughter in the gym amongst the other little girls. It’s like a little radar, she said,

But I didn’t put the bow on because I figured she looked enough like a girl. Besides, she likes to rip off her bows and huck them, and I wasn’t in the mood to hunt for bows among the bell peppers. (It’s like tiptoeing through the tulips. Only not.)

I know I haven’t posted pictures of my kids, so you don’t really know what my daughter looks like. Well, I’ll tell you. She’s bald. Okay, not completely bald. She kind of has this dandelion fly away mullet look goin’ on.

I’ll just say it. It’s not that cute.

Hence, the bows. She does have pretty blue eyes though, and a charming little smile, and since she had a good nap and a good lunch before we hit the store, she was in a particularly chirpy mood. She was grinning at people left and right, and people were coming up to talk to my little cherub, giggling at her as she giggles back. I was parked by the pomegranates when an older gentleman came up and said, “Hey, that’s a cute baby!”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Yeah, he’s dressed in all pink, but it looks like a boy. Is it a boy?”

I looked at him and said, “No, she’s a girl.”

He continued, in what I thought was an abnormally loud voice, “Well, she’s got a pink shirt, and those pink pants, and those pink shoes, but she still looks like a boy. How ya doin’ little buddy?” and he cooed at my little girl dressed in pink.

Most days, I would have just shrugged and walked away. Most days, I would have just smiled and thanked him again and picked up my pomegranates and moved on.

This day was not most days.

“Yes”, I answered back. “Yes, she looks like a boy because she’s bald. Lots of babies are bald. That’s why I dressed her in all pink. So that everybody would know that she is actually a girl. Because girls wear pink. It’s like a little signal.”

Undeterred, the man just happily replied, “Well, she looks just like my grandson.” And he continued to relate stories about his new grandson, his walking habits, his eating habits, and his growth curve.

At this point, I did pick up my pomegranates and said, “Well, thanks. Happy Thanksgiving!” The man waggled his fingers at my darling daugther as I deposited the fruit into my basket and moved on to the stuffing.

I happened to be on the phone with my dh at the time of this encounter, so he heard the whole thing. As I walked away, he said in my ear:

“Bet you wished you had that bow now, huh.”

Yes. I will never leave home without it again.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody. I’m going online to buy some more bows.