Dear god, gods, satan, buddha, Johnny Carson, and/or anyone who will listen,
Please do not let me turn into the woman standing in front of me in line at Kohls on this Sunday morning. Old gray sneakers, black socks, acid washed denim high-elastic-waist shorts, and a tucked in black button down shirt with pumpkins on it. Halloween pumpkins, to be specific. Jack-o-lanterns.