Racism here?

I went to a store today to get some clothes for Caroline. She is growing like a weed and after telling her repeatedly that pants up past her ankles are not appropriate for school, I had to get her some that would work.

Desta has decided that today isn’t a day to nap.  Of course she has!  So off we trudged.  First sign of trouble.  A massive blast from our sweet little girl. I spent 15 minutes mopping her and my entire backseat.  Thank goodness I had put an extra outfit in the diaper bag that morning.  Oh my. Now my car has that distinct scent of eu du toilet.  Ugh!

Enter store.  Got a weird feeling the moment I stepped in.  Usually people rush to compliment Desta.  I was not looking for that but at least a smile.  Oh well.  I had a job to do and by golly, I was going to find some pants that worked for my Caroline. 

I found what I needed but as people came and went in the store, I was the one stared at.  It was a really strange feeling.  This was my first time there with Desta.  Before I had wonderful conversations with the sales clerks, etc.  Not this time.

And there it was, that yucky feeling that I still can’t shake.  For one of the first times in this town I live in, I felt it.  Racism. And boy does it feel yucky.  And lingering.  And there is nothing I can do about it.