Yesterday afternoon — Easter Sunday — I had to make a run to Wal-Mart. I went by myself, and took my time hunting for the things I was looking for. After, I don't know, thirty minutes or so, I checked out and left.

On my way home, I stopped at my grandparents' house, since they live around the corner on my street. Granny and her friend Jeanne happened to be sitting outside, and I joined them, and before long we were talking about Zoey's Easter basket.

Her Easter basket didn't involve much, I explained. Zoey's not real into candy, so there were just a few miscellanous fun things in there… a little stuffed bunny wearing a hat and sundress, a very small chocolate bunny, a little bag of Reese's Pieces, a sheet of Easter stickers…

Stickers.

That's when it dawned on me that earlier that afternoon, Zoey had been messing around with her stickers, and playfully stuck one on my butt. At the time, I knew what she was doing, and I played along. And promptly forgot. Oops!

I was explaining this to Granny and Jeanne as I stood up and started feeling all over the back of my shorts. Sure enough, there was a blue stripey Easter egg sticker stuck to my butt. Wheee! How festive!

But I'm not too embarrassed, because compared to the people I often see at Wal-Mart, this is nothing. I once saw a woman, probably in her 40s or 50s, with thinning curly hair pulled into two tiny pigtails on either side of the back of her head, and a stained brownish T-shirt tucked into a different shade of brownish pants. So really, even with a pleasant pastel Easter egg on my ass, at least I'm still way ahead of that lady. :)

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