A Life of Crime

Let me begin by saying that I have NEVER stolen anything in my life.  Fact.  Honest.  You can ask God.  So imagine the feeling of pure sickness and total nausea that overcame my body when I began to unload my cart frantically in the pouring rain in Target’s parking lot when I saw these sitting next to my purse in the seat part of the cart. 

I quickly grabbed the three items and jumped into the car to avoid being struck by lightning and soaked to the bone any further.   I took a deep breath and instantly felt like I was being watched.  I felt like someone was going to suddenly pound on my window, just like in a movie and arrest me for stealing.   It was a simple mistake.  I just didn’t see them sitting there next to my purse and neither did the cashier.

To steal, there has to be intent.  It’s purposeful.  You want to deceive.  I had done none of that, yet I felt like I HAD because the three items sat in my hand looking bigger than life.   My first gut was to run back in the store and pay for them, but the rain was coming down so hard and lightning was all around me and I needed to pick up my boys from their gym class.  I didn’t go back in. 

Was I now a thief because I didn’t go back in right then?  I hope not.  I will go back to the store tomorrow and pay for them and explain what happened.  Surely that lets me off the hook and will let me maintain my status as a good-deed-doer.  Right?  Right?

The guilt, even though it was an innocent mistake, is dreadful.   I’d never be able to be part of a crime ring, that’s for sure.   I’d buckle and turn them all in and then lecture them about their rotten behavior.  It’s just not a viable job option for me.

So, until I get a moment to head back to my favorite store, the three items are tucked away in a Target bag sitting next to my purse.  The loot, is waiting to be turned into legitimate purchased goods and am hoping for a clear conscious.  Crime just doesn’t pay!