(Nikki, the little girl next to Spenser in the pink shirt holding the blue ball reminds me of a little Anna.)
And I couldn't resist this shot of my little man with his hands in his pocket. Boy do I love that kid!
Okay, so on with my Former Mullet Hunter, not a Stalker bit:
A few years back my sisters and I took some photos of people with mullets. Just for laughs. And to show each other the fine mullet specimens we had found. Well, when Carter was in preschool (2002-2004) there was a very mullety mom. I remember just wanting to take her photo to show my sisters. I had the very chance on a hayride field trip (and I think I narrowed it down to October 2003, I just wish I had time to find the backup disks from my computer to show you).
Anyway, this woman and her mullet were quite memorable. Just for that very reason. I don't know her name. Nor do I care what it is.
So yesterday, I see her (less the mullet). She stood next to me at one point and I mentioned to her that our sons had preschool together a few years ago. (At that point, I didn't even remember which of my boys it was ... Taylor? Carter? Jackson? I knew it was longer ago than Mason.) And she had mentioned how she used to walk him to preschool because she lived nearby. I commented that I remembered her walking to school. (I only recalled that information from my memory bank because she said it first. I certainly would not have remembered it on my own.) I have passed her house before while visiting people from church (I have seen her outside) and knew where she lived, but never even thought about it or cared. At all.
When we were leaving preschool yesterday, I noticed she was parked behind me (I didn't even realize it was her at first). I was doing a few things inside the car, so I didn't leave right away. Plus, since I was parallel parked, it would be a lot easier to wait until the car behind me left so I could back up first. She didn't go, but she had backed up a little. I was still locating my lists of errands, so I sat. Finally, as I was ready to go, so was she. She pulled out. I pulled out.
If your children have attended that preschool for any length of time, you know the back roads around the preschool to get back out of the neighborhood, so that's the way I went. (That's when I realized it was her, because I was "following" her.) When we neared her house, I slowed down, thinking she was going to pull into her driveway, but she didn't. As we passed the house, I had a feeling wash over me that she thinks I am following her. It was an instant feeling, but definite.
As we approached the end of the street, I immediately put on my blinker to turn left. She did, too. And then suddenly she turned on her right blinker and went back toward the preschool. I just went along my merry way, just as I had planned. I wasn't stalking her, but I honestly think she thinks I was. (And now I wonder if she knew I took her photo on that October hayride day. I tried my best to be discreet.)
For Pete's sake! She's not even my type! For one. She's a woman! Two, she still has mullet-intentions. I can tell it's in her blood.
So now I feel I have to keep a low profile from this woman. I think I'm not going to look at her at all next week. Just so she knows I don't have a thing for her ...
(And, yes, just for fun I thought about following her when she turned right. But really, I was too embarrassed and misunderstood by that point.)