Dear Target Check-out Girl...

Today, when you were scanning my case of beer, and you paused to look at me to determine whether or not to ask for my ID, you really hurt my feelings. Why would it be beyond the realm of possibility that I am under the age of 21? Always before, I've been asked for an ID...you know, just in case. Of course I look older than 21, but there has at least always been a little room for reasonable doubt in the eyes of all of the other clerks from whom I've purchased my booze. And don't even say that it was because I have a baby with me, because sister, we live in Indiana. By waiting to bear a child until I was 26, most residents of this state were surprised that my ovaries hadn't already dried up. Hoosier women don't mess around when it comes to childbearing. Well, um yes, I guess they do. Anyway, next time, humor me. Give this aging housewife some sense of hope, no matter how false it may be.

Sincerely,
J.A.R.