Ouch, That Hurt

Killing time between my 1st and 2nd jobs (you know, the one that Honeybun doesn't think is really a job) I visited a local upscale baby store yesterday. While I was there I zeroed in on an outfit to bring home Baby in. (I was told not to call him "Hugo" anymore because a certain someone named HB doesn't like it. I guess now I'll call him "Baby" not to be confused with the original baby Satchmo.) I took one look at the price tag and swooned. No way was I paying that. I'll wait until it goes on sale. Never mind, I'll just carry it around with me. It's the last one left in Baby's size someone might buy it before it goes on sale. Can't do it, just can't do it. Put it back on the rack and walk away. Walk away. Oops, gotta go it's time to pick up the pizzas for the 2nd job. Fast forward to today. All I've been thinking about is the outfit. Madre came to eat lunch with me and I mentioned my dilemma to her. We decide it's really not that much to spend on Baby's coming home outfit. We're heading back to the store (after we eat of course, gotta keep that energy up) to make the purchase.

After seeing the outfit in person Madre agrees it is the most precious thing she's ever seen and I have to buy it. (It's always easy to spend someone else's money, isn't it?) I headed toward the cash register credit card in hand. I gave my name to the clerk so she could ring up the sale and the other lady who works there started a conversation with me. It went a little like this:

Clerk- Did you go to WKU?
Me- Yes, I graduated from there.
Clerk- What's your name?
Me- I tell her
Clerk- I think I recognize you. I think we went there together?
Me- (ummm, ???)
Clerk- Were you in here the other day?
Me- Yes
Clerk- I thought so. I was thinking it was you. I recognized you then. I was thinking, that must be her, but you know it's been TWENTY years or so...
Me- Um, no, that wasn't me. 20 years ago I was 7.
Clerk- Oh, well I thought if it was who I was thinking she's sure aged well.
Me- (smiled)
Other Clerk- Here you go.
Me- Thanks. (and exited)

Yeah, just got mistaken for a 47 year old. I wanted to say, um, are you sure you aren't talking about my mom?

Should I be insulted?