(Grandpa's Secret)

Lately I’ve been getting dozens of ads for L. L. Bean on the sides of some web pages I visit regularly. What’s odd is that I’ve never shopped at L. L. Bean (either in person or on line), never wanted to, never will.

One of my granddaughters, Jill, was born prematurely and has always been a lot smaller than her twin brother Sam. Everyone in the family started calling her The Bean, which had been shortened over the months from Jilly Bean. I was never a fan of that affectionate moniker simply because I liked the name Jill and didn’t want it to go away. Nicknames can do that. But in my family I seem to be in the minority. Mostly she’s The Bean.

One day I was posting some pictures of adorable little Jill on several social media sites. I captioned it "J.I.L.L. Bean." It was my way to compromise. It was also L.L. Bean’s way of capturing me. Obviously, thanks to advanced e-marketing technology, they thought I was a potential customer. That's why I'm getting the ads.

I wonder what would happen if I wrote something like this on line about Jill's brother: “See how happy this little boy is? I’ll join Sam’s club any day of the week.” And then there’s my eldest granddaughter, Veronica. Imagine if I wrote, “Look at those eyes. What isn’t she telling us? Just what is Veronica’s secret?”

I know what you're thinking: I'm confusing it with Victoria's secret. Right? Well, maybe I did initially, but when I posted the words 'Veronica's secret' on another blog prior to this one, guess what happened. I suddenly started receiving on line ads for a plus-size lingerie company. Which still supports the theme of this essay.

(I needed to explain this on my blog in case anyone is ever looking over my shoulder when I'm working on the computer.)