I threw the idea out there on a lark, and she said, Sure!
And so for one last time before Michelle’s move Friday to her new job in San Diego, we drove down to Andy’s Orchard together. The last fresh fruit of the year was apples and persimmons, including a Giant Fuyu that truly was and a variety I’d never heard of.
But the best part was seeing the woman I’d given Andy’s hat to last month. She had always seemed like someone who needed a good hug and a listening ear somehow.
Boy, not this time. She was glad to see us and laughed again and again as we chatted.
Then the total, the credit card, and the sudden realization: how am I supposed to sign this?!
No problem, Mom, I can do it.
Wait what?
She told me of some long-forgotten (by me, anyway) time when she’d needed my signature in high school but that hadn’t been possible so I’d told her to just go sign it. Turned out she could do a darn good job of it, and today it was, here, let me show you. Our handwriting style’s a lot the same anyway, Mom.
(Actually I didn’t think it was but never mind.)
And then with my okay, go ahead, she did.
I was gobsmacked. I couldn’t have been able to tell you I hadn’t written that. She was disappointed it didn’t come out better while I was going no, you’ve got my old-age version down pat.
The clerk was bowled over laughing at this point.
You have found your superpower, my child. Use it only for good.