If I didn't have some sense of sanity, conspiracy theorists could convince me that the growing population of reusable bags might be an alien invasion.
These bags are infiltrating every home and merchandiser across the U.S. They're stowed away in our trunks, following us everywhere we go. And they're masquerading as "earth friendly."
Think about it. These bags are all about "being green" - all part of the "green movement."
Well, helloooooo! Aren't Martians supposed to be green?
If it ever turns out that these bags were aliens in disguise, my mom and I would go down in history as alien accomplices, guilty of aiding in their invasion.
Our only defense? We were held helpless, hypnotized by their charm. They enticed us by simply dangling from hooks on display racks that were strategically placed in locations where we couldn't miss them, resist them or refrain from enlisting them for future duties.
In other words, "We took them in." We oohed and ahhhed over how cute and how roomy they were.
My mom now owns several of these bags from right here in Fort Mill. And she doesn't even live here. They're her new collector thing. She transported them north, across state lines. And now, she's requesting additional supplies for her friends.
My dad is thinking about making them his new luggage.
"They're personalized," he explains, "With logos. Just like designer luggage."
His favorite: "Bi-Lo"- a must for any self-taught stock investor like himself.
And I'm wondering why I keep buying these bags and stashing them in my trunk.
I never have one when I need it. My memory of them is erased. That is, until I find myself at the checkout, confessing to the cashier, "Oh, man. I forgot my bag."
I'm thinking these bags have no intention of being burdened with toting my stuff. They just want to ride around in my trunk, taking note of every item I pack, purchase and pass along.
Maybe they're keeping tabs on our planet to ensure universal balance. They might be thinking we're headed for a cosmic bailout. And they might be taking names.