I Guess I Am 21, But...

In the process of cleaning my room, I found a little velvet-ish bag full of "precious stones" (a.k.a. pretty rocks) that I got sometime in elementary school at the Arizona Science Center. They actually do look pretty cool, so my mom and I have been looking for something to display them in. This is what we found at Target today (complete with pretty rocks):


It looks pretty cool, right? Now, some of you might have noticed something...particular about the shape and size. Yes, it's a shooter. (Or shot glass or whatever you want to call it.) That is what brings us to the story of the day. (Tadaaaa! I know you've all been missing my stories.)

Mom and I were passing through the dishes at Target, looking at all the pretty stuff (with me stopping about every 5 feet and saying "Mom, look. This is pretty. I like it. That is all." I'm good at that.) Mom says, "Oh, look, this is cool! It would probably work for your rocks."

I say, "Mom, that's a shooter."

"That doesn't matter. You don't have to get it, I just thought it looked cool."

I think it's kind-of funny, and it does look cool, so I stick it in the cart. The following conversation took place between me and the Target cashier approximately 3 minutes later.

Cashier: Hi! Did you find everything OK?
Me: Yeah, I think so.
Cashier: Ooh, nice shooter.
Me: [mortified and trying to defend myself because I don't want her to think I'm going to use it for alcohol, even though it doesn't really matter] Oh, yeah. We're thinking up interesting ways to use things in my house. [Really?! I think to myself. That's supposed to be better?! Now it just sounds 50 times worse! Sheesh.]Cashier: What?
Me: [I try to think of a way to change it, but just end up repeating the same stupid answer] You know. [silently dying...]
Cashier: Oh, no, you can do whatever you want. Your total is...

Oh boy. I do have a way with words, don't I?