"Hey look, it's Grant's parents!"

The other night at WalMart, our designated spot for birthdays, anniversaries, and all special occasions, we were shopping in the Health and Beauty section of the megastore. To be more precise, we were giggling like middle school kids at the variety of colors, shapes, and sizes of, shall we say, preventatives, when we heard a voice declare, "Awww look, it's Grant!"

There's some amount of trepidation involved when anyone sees you shopping for such things, even as an adult (or a taller, heavier juvenile, in my case). I'm still prone to sliding anything even remotely "Birds and Bees"-y (preventatives, home pregnancy tests, hemorrhoid cream) under my bread and roast beef in the shopping cart to prevent speculation on the part of my fellow shoppers as to my intentions later in the evening.

But in this case, it was slightly more horrifying than usual. Erin and I turned to see one of Grant's pre-school teachers from a local church standing there with open arms to greet Grant and his two shameful parents. We quickly turned our backs to the display shelves in an effort to prevent her from noticing what we were looking at, but I don't think it helped. We talked to her for a few minutes, and afterwards, I'm fairly certain she winked at me.