I find myself oddly drawn to hidden treasure series in a way I have not been since I was a kid, convinced that treasure was literally burred in every slightly out of the way nook or cranny.

When I was a kid, my mother had to take me to the doctors office with her. This doctors office, unlike most, had an outside playground. Thinking treasure was literally everywhere, I started digging holes outside the office.

getting as dirty as did, Mrs. Murchonson, a very wealthy VERY OLD woman with severely diminished vision dragged me around for 45 mins looking for my mom. I told her who my mom was. She wasn't having it because she, as I found out later, was convinced I was a Mexican.

You would have thought "racism", only it wasn't. She was so upset she could not find my "real mom" she almost started crying. Keep in mind this was 1991, and I was 7, With jet black hair and deep golden brown skin. My mom laughed her ass off.

She found it even more funny when Mrs.M had whatever look on her face when mom revealed that she, herself, is not "white" at least, not mostly. Though, it was weird when Mrs.M started bringing us "native American" food she made.

Weird because we had NO IDEA what she made and it was very clear whatever it was she made was WELL outside of her normal wheelhouse of normally AMAZING Americana themed food like pie, fried catfish, cookies, etc.

The whole point of this thread is to illustrate that feeble attempts at connecting with people are often the most genuine attempts of kindness.