The Scene In Which I Have Spent $23. On Something.

Earlier this week I got my credit card statement, and like most months, gave it a quick perusal to be sure nothing was out of the ordinary. Sure enough, it all seemed legit- a couple tanks of gas, a few (or four...or seven...or eleven) trips to Starbucks, some purchases at Lowe's, and of course, the $23 I'd spent at the "Family Name's Feed and Mercantile" in Some Town You've Never Heard Of, Indiana.

Whaaaaa?

I racked my brain.

I rifled my reciepts.

I tried to remember WHAT I could have POSSIBLY spent $23 on at a FEED STORE somewhere in East Jesus, Indiana.

And I couldn't.

So I called my credit card company and spent about five minutes on the phone explaining to the nice young man that, in fact, I had not spent $23 on something at a Feed Store.

And then I got on with my life quite nicely until today, when I went to grab a few things out of my purse so that I could put them in another purse.

And felt the crinkle of a shoved-down reciept.

For $23.

To the Feed and Mercantile.

Whaaaaaa?

I racked my brain.

I rifled my (now found) reciept.

I tried to remember WHAT I could have POSSIBLY spent $23 on at the FEED STORE somewhere in East Jesus, Indiana.

And I couldn't.

So I called my credit card company and spent about 5 minutes on the phone explaining to the nice young woman that, in fact, I had spent $23 on something at a Feed Store.

But, hand to God, I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHAT.