When he pulled up Tales From the Running Mama he said, “Oh, a mom blog,” like it was a booger or something.  He scrolled down two measly clicks and then sat back in his chair and half-motioned toward the screen. “You don’t even have your own domain.” 

Oh. The. Nerve.  Did he not see those little fake Polaroids with the boys names on them that I made on Picnik?  Did he have any idea how long it took me to get them to slant in opposite directions? 

“You are dumb.” “What do you suggest?” I said.  He sighed as if he were done slumming with my unsophisticated blog.  He handed me his pamphlet but said I could probably set up what I needed myself.  That was a really good thing because his prices were extortionary.   

Maybe I got bullied by a 23 year old geek, but whatevs.  I went home, bought a domain on Godaddy, and my friend Jarrod got it going on WordPress.  I sprung for a nice theme, cuz I’m classy like that.  For the last two weeks I have been hacking my way through widgets and plug-ins, and mooching expertise from my friends and tweeps.  (I heart you Michele Lashley and @sarahmarkley.)

Having a sweet website covers a multitude of personal flaws.  It makes me feel cool even though I’m writing this post in my sweatpants while drinking chocolate milk from a blue Take-and-Toss cup.  The next time I open my car door while still singing to Kidz Bop, I won’t feel like an idiot, because I am Andi Hawkins, dot com.

At the register I loaded up our stuff on the conveyor belt, keeping an item or two aside for emergency re-shelving in case I underestimated the total. A friend of mine got in line behind me and we chatted for a minute while we waited, though I was distracted by the increasing total on the register. When the checker finished I went for the scanner with my trusty debit card. Suddenly, I heard a “Wait, Don’t run that!” from my friend. I looked up thinking I was mistakenly overcharged or something, but instead she gave the checker her card.

Girls, she bought my groceries. All of them.

“You don’t have to do that!” I said, but I could see by her smile that it was a pleasure. I couldn’t help it. I started crying right there in line at Super Target. THEN, the cashier started crying. I mean really, who goes to Super Target to be nice? I thanked my friend profusely and got all of our stuff in the car.

I was so stinkin‘ blessed, I had to call a few friends and tell them. Since I am usually complaining after I go to Super Target, it was a refreshing break for them. I dialed and talked all the way home. Here is the cool part: Everyone I told was inspired to do the same thing for someone else. I am getting chills just writing about it.

So, today, because of the overflow of love in one woman’s heart, the ripple effects of blessing are as follows:

Me
My boys
Cashier
Greg
My mom
3 different friends (so far)
Unknown number of people who will soon be similarly blessed by those named above

And of course… you.

That is a huge return for a simple act of generosity. So, what could you do with $93.86?