It’s true. I am a sucker for a halfway decent sales pitch. Probably not even halfway decent. Minimally decent is more like it.

Act kind of real and genuinely interested in me while telling your story about how this product has changed your life or how it has become your mission in life to change the world or how your long lost child developed some sort of disorder and then found Jesus because this soap worked miracles, and I’ll buy a case.

I was at the salesperson circus this past weekend in Oklahoma City and I was all in. I was the elephant walking in circles, gobbling up the peanuts thrown at me from almost every booth. Geri was the trainer, leading me around in circles, showing me the bells and whistles and every last gloriously beautiful thing that I must have because it would make me 1) beautiful 2) skinny 3) sleep better 4) cook better 5) my house so perfect 6) my grandchildren so happy 7) the only one in the world with this piece of incredible art.

I’m just glad I don’t really like lots of jewelry and sequin-y hats and 47 kinds of salsa and anything that has an arrow embellishment, glad I was scatterbrained enough that I didn’t bring my purse in that held my debit card but just put some cash in my pocket, glad I wasn’t toting seven grandchildren all day because we would have had to buy a few of the $80 carts they were selling to haul the junk, glad I’m not into Oklahoma/Texas t-shirts and décor for the home, and glad that we had to park a little way out because it kept me from purchasing every. last. thing.

What DID I walk out with?

The best night’s sleep in the whole wide world! My pillow! Dot Com…

Actually, TWO pillows dot com, plus one travel pillow dot com. Okay. And a few other bags of stuff, too.

I am grateful for a wonderful weekend with Geri.

I am grateful for a really nice hotel with really nice employees.

I am grateful for laughter and more laughter and even more laughter.

I am grateful we could pick up where we left off like it was just yesterday.

I am grateful that Geri likes chicken fried steak, just like me.

I am grateful that my feet didn’t completely collapse and the blisters were only temporary.

I am grateful for a friend who listens and pretends that I don’t talk too much.

I am grateful for Falling in Love, the perfume, and for actually falling in love.

And I am grateful that Geri knows all about my pillow dot com, so that if it isn’t the best night’s sleep in the whole wide world, I’ll know who to call to complain about it.