stop, look and think

I sometimes need to stop, look and think

     I mean well.  Really, I do.
     It just doesn't always work out the way I want.
     Emily and John brought me some maple syrup from Canada.  It is 100 percent, pure, grade A amber syrup.  I have used it on pancakes several times.
     Last night  I noticed there were some floaters in the syrup, which I attributed to crystallization of the sugar.  OK, I had never seen green sugar before, but I figure, Eh, its Canada.
     I used it.  (Yes, we had pancakes for supper.  Feels good to shake it up once in a while.)
     The syrup was delicious.....I loved it.
     Then I read the label:  Refrigerate after opening.
     Syrup can develop mold..... if you don't refrigerate it.
     So it is now in the cooler and I wonder, should I buy cheesecloth to filter it?  Will a coffee filter work?  Do I even need to worry about the floaters still in the bottle?
     Time will tell.
     Jackie and I are friends with Kevin and Jen, who are friends of Emily.  They have a lovely daughter named Samantha.  They also have a baby sitter named Samantha.
     So when I went to Walmart tonight to buy milk and bread I walked past this lady and a little girl with blond hair.  I said hello, took four steps, then turned and said, "Is that Samantha?"
She said yes, so I went over to the car where the little girl was, looked in and said,"Hello, Samantha!" to a little girl who I had never seen before and looked really scared by the creepy old man.
     "I'm Samantha," she said.
      "Yes, but I thought the little girl was Samantha too," I replied, feeling very foolish.
     I went in to buy milk and bread.  I say that again for emphasis.  On Dec. 12, 1969 I headed out to buy milk and bread from the store across the street.  My friend John said I did not need the car keys and all that money because it was across the street and I was not to leave the apartment under any circumstances because I was getting married tomorrow.
     So tonight I went in the store and spent a loooong time looking for a half loaf of bread.  We don't eat a lot of bread, but we have fresh tomatoes and bacon, so I thought a BLT for supper Wednesday would be a great thing.
     I looked and looked and looked.  A lady asked me if I was enjoying reading the labels.  I told her I could not find the half loaf of Bonnie Bunny bread.
     She pointed to the several loaves, all with a huge red 1/2 Loaf printed on the end.  "These?"
     And there you have it.
     I don't see what I see, or hear what I hear.
     I don't read labels, that's pretty clear.
     I am what I am, for better or worse;
     I think my brain may have picked up a curse.