Hey, Scarecrow. Call me Mrs. King.

While everyone else was at Target buying plastic Easter grass and Peeps, I was at the Sheriff's Department getting fingerprinted.

A volunteer job I signed up for requires a routine background check. Yesterday, I was handed a fingerprinting card and directions. Once I found my way to the Sheriff's office, I took a seat. (OK, I didn't actually take a seat; that may be mistaken for stealing. Technically, I borrowed a seat.)

So, anyway, I borrowed a seat and waited across from a man who was heavily tattooed. Normally, this would make me feel uneasy, but there were very strong men who were armed in the next room. With badges and stuff.

Within a few minutes, they called me back and I explained that I needed to be fingerprinted. I put my purse down on the counter and handed the officer my envelope.

"Is this for a concealed weapons permit?" he questioned.

"Do I look like I need a concealed weapons permit?" I asked in bewilderment.

"No, but most of the time those people have the same kind of envelope and they put it on the counter face down the way you did," he explained.

Um....kay.

The officer started the fingerprinting process. (It's digital now! CoooWel!!)

Then, trying to be the considerate person that my Mama would have me be, I picked up my purse to get it out of the way and put it on my shoulder.

"You can leave your purse there, M'am. It is safe behind that plate of bullet proof glass."

We were not off to a good start. Can ya tell? I politely said I was only trying to move it out of the way and then placed it to the side.

I stood there with the officer holding my hand, carefully rolling each finger to get a copy of my prints.

"What do you do for a living?" he asked.

"I'm a Stay-At-Home Mom," I answered.

"Your prints are very faint. You use too many cleaning products. They are destroying your fingerprints. We see this in people who are doctors, nurses, people who clean for a living, wash their hands a lot, or do masonry work," the officer explained.

Me doing masonry work. Snort.

The kind and armed officer continued to roll my fingers again and again and again...

After completing the very faint and hard to read fingerprint card, he had to attach an addendum explaining that I was a "difficult" person to print and to "contact the Sheriff's office" if there were any questions about my background check.

So, now I am in need (obviously) of a concealed weapons permit so that I can carry a piece in my black and white toile purse that is in the way but perfectly safe behind the window of bullet proof glass, and I have burned my fingerprints nearly off with Clorox bleach and goodness knows what else I have used to scrub the commodes in my house.

Just your average day.

Tomorrow, I get my new identity.