Since having baby number two I don’t make it out to the thrift store as often as I used to, but on Saturday mornings, while Ellis is at soccer practice, I get to hit a few of my local spots.

Last week I came across one of my favorite finds that turns up from time to time, this rare gem:

Maybe Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul III isn’t in your top ten must-reads, but it holds a special place in my heart. When I was sixteen I sold a story of friendship to Chicken Soup, getting paid for my writing for the first time. It was kind of a big deal in my teenage world. My dad (who’s a consummate book collector) even arranged a book signing for me at Boulder Bookstore, where he bought about 40 copies of the book and got in line 40 times to have each of them signed.

A few years later at a college party I spotted the book on some girl’s shelf. I signed it and left it for her to discover. (I may or may not have been tipsy.) Since then, whenever I come across the book, I sign it.

So when I found a battered old copy in the thrift store on Saturday, I snuck into the back corner to sign it. I had to remember what my old signature was like, since I haven’t signed my maiden name in nearly seven years.

Teenagers of the future past, you’re welcome. That little bit of unsolicited graffiti might just be valuable one day. You know, when this stay-at-home mom becomes famous or something.