'Yo buddy, yo' momma's a baglady'--

No I am not talking about something as normal? as taking my own bags with me when I go shopping [Breane hates that]. No, no, I mean a BAGLADY! The kind of person other people stare at and wonder?, Is she 'all there?' When you start any new system you really should have a plan of some sort. Take my decision to recycle. Ok, I find out what I can recycle. I place all of the items in the SAME bag and happily go off to do my duty. One bag,mind you. So I dance between the bins discarding my unwanted items. Oddly enough people did stare. Imagine. I not only did this once I have done it on 3 different occasions. Breane refuses to go anywhere near the bins with me. Could she possibly be embarrassed.? Surely not. It's not like I'm like my Mother was when I was a teenager. Oh no! I am much MUCH worse. And it isn't as if poor Breane can even predict what I might do. Take the very normal grocery shopping trip. The store manager is explaining to the overworked checker that there are no 'baggers' available to help her, and the menopausal lady standing in the checkout line [me] pipes up, 'what are YOU. chopped liver??' No one knows what that poor sweet young lady [Breane] puts up with. It's not like I was in menopause when you older kids were at home. You should all sit down and write Breane a sympathy card or better yet a 'Thank you" note, for not killing me. I wouldn't be at all surprised if she hasn't wanted to a time or two. So when someone heckles you with, 'Yo buddy, yo' momma's a BAGLADY!' Hang your head in shame--for it is true!