Thievery and Other Foolishness

Grocery stores and I go way back.  My earliest memory of going to the grocery store involved a little bit of crime.  I was probably 4 or 5 years old, and there was this great candy out at the time…perhaps you remember it?

I'd had my eye on this candy for quite some time…I think I remember seeing my neighbor Cindy with it once and knew I couldn't live without it.  I mean, come on, she listened to the Fat Boys…

Every time we checked out at IGA, there it was…staring at me.  Now, I don't know how this idea popped into my head at such a young age.  I guess I was born a rebel.  (Takes long drag on a Virginia Slim…)  But I decided that I needed to steal this candy (because asking my mom was not an option?), and there was only one way to do it.  I quietly grabbed the candy while my mom's back was turned toward the cash register, hid it in both my hands, and proceeded to perform the "I really REALLY need to go to the bathroom" dance.  So, we hurried out the door with our cart, dancing all the way out to the car. And to my horror, I could hear the candy moving around inside the box with each little jump I took.  Surely I would be discovered!  I jumped a little less vigorously…no reaction from Mom.  Shwew!

I sat in the back seat of the Chevy Celebrity with my prize clutched tightly in my sweaty palms.  Should I eat it now and risk Mom seeing me?  No.  I will perform this in full Shakespearean glory…all the way to the bathroom.  We arrived home, I rushed to the bathroom, closed the door and devoured my little box of gum-candy.  It was the best tasting candy I'd ever had (at that time)…it tasted like victory.

I wish I could write that my mom suddenly burst through the bathroom door and caught me red-handed (or orange-mouthed), clued in by the overwhelming scent of oranges and high fructose corn syrup.  And that I received a spanking and was sent back to IGA to fess up and pay up.  But no.  She never knew.  And I wish that I could say something cool like, "And that was the beginning of my run-ins with the law…", but alas, it was not.  And that is because I was born the Oldest Child…Type A…Brown-Noser….Goodie Two-Shoes...Rule-Follower…People-Pleaser.  I was punished by my own guilty conscience…"What have I done?  This isn't how my parents raised me.  Can kids go to jail?"  And thus ended my life of crime.  I was the thief…and my own police officer.

Other Foolishness…

I made an owl for our goddaughter.  Got some ideas from different stuffed owls online, put together my favorite pieces and came up with this…

I must say, I was quite pleased with how it turned out.  Then, one day, I came home to discover this…

Mayhem!  Foolishness!  Paul Terry!  (That's our dog's name.)

So, did a little amputation surgery on the owl, and gave it to her for her first birthday, sans a middle toe.  I think she loved it anyway.  :)