My mother outed me in the Walmart checkout line on Sunday.

We were being rung-up and she started talking to me about the most recent X-Files episode she had seen. She's just now starting to get into the show, after 7 and a half years. She always thought it was "like that Star Trek show", which she never really liked. "It's not all about aliens," she tells me. Thanks, Mommy.

So anyway, there we are in the checkout line and she's gabbing about whatever it was she saw. The cashier asks, "What show are you talking about?" Now, I wouldn't exactly say 'we' were talking about anything; a better description would have been that my mother was talking to the back of my head as I placed the bagged items in our shopping cart. As comfortable as I claim to be in my geeky x-files skin, there are just times when I rather that geekiness not be broadcast to the entire world.

Next thing I know, my mother and the cashier are in the throes of a very LOUD conversation - not only about The X-Files, but about my involvement in it. A couple of examples from my mother's mouth:

"She e-mails with the smoking man, you know. Mhm."

"She has every episode on tape, you know. Mhm."

Things are a blur after that. I have a vague recollection of grabbing my mother's shirtsleeve and pulling her away from the cashier as I launched into a sprint for the door.