My Prejudice and Prayer

Recently I was confronted with the realization I am prejudiced against a certain class of individuals. Am I proud of it? No.

But the holiday season really pushes my fear front and center. It seems like everyone and their Momma is out shopping. That means more populated stores.

I’ll be in Publix minding my own business. Trying to decide what sushi plate to buy. Then there they are. You can tell the worst ones by their hair and kids.

I never judge a book by its cover.

Unless the book has a bob hairstyle, a kid on the dance team, just got back from a PTA meeting, and almost runs me over with their buggy.

People who walk in the store like they own the place. Completely cold to the welfare of others. With a frigid look that just yells, “I will choke you to death right here in this Publix if you come between me and my son’s peanut-free peanut butter.”

Or they give you an empty, dead inside glance as they buy cosmetics for a daughter that is one house party away from being on Teen Mom.

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God’s Favorite Sitcom

I’m a super frugal shopper. Before each trip, I arm myself with a list and coupons. I usually buy things on sale and avoid impulse spending with one odd exception.

When I find an item out of place with no visible copies- I buy it.

Maybe it’s superstition, who knows? But when I see such an item it shouts:

“Hey Rae, buy me. I’m special. There’s nothing in this store like me. I’m out of place and unique. And you need to bring me home.”

I was shopping for pieces to put in my daughter’s room. Because right now, her current bedroom theme is, “cheap lazy Momma chic.”

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