Clepto

Oh my God. This is ridiculous.

Once again, I walk out of a store and I realize there’s something I haven’t paid for.

I remember the first time this happened. My baby and I were at the mall with a new Mom friend. We walked into the Gap. I found a pair of baby jeans I wanted to look over, so I hooked them onto the handle of my stroller. In the chaos that followed (a blow-out diaper, breastfeeding, and a snack break in the changing room) I forgot the jeans and walked right out. About an hour later as we were about to leave the mall, I saw the jeans dangling from the side of my stroller, and I was like….. “Oh, no!”.

My new Mom  friend was, like, “SCORE!!!”.

I was, like, “No, NOT a score. Are you serious?”. She was convinced I should keep them.

I was mortified.

Shaking my head, embarrassed, tail between my legs, I marched back into the Gap, walked over to the rack and put them back. The security guard was clueless and the cashier welcomed me back, thinking I’d forgot something. Uh, yeah. I forgot something alright.

Anyway, I’ve had plenty of similar episodes like this since I’ve become a stroller-lady. Some of the inadvertent thievery takes days to reveal itself, buried in the folds of my monstrosity of a stroller. Like today. I’m rummaging through the basket under my stroller, looking for a pair of gloves and I found a new box of Tinkerbell crayons. Where did those come from? I have no idea. I should ask my little girl. Maybe this is contagious.

The thing is, I often shop with my stroller as the shopping cart, cause I’ve got STUFF. You know, a big diaper bag, two toddlers, drinks, bags, hand wipes, etc. Plus, I’m kinda icked out by shopping carts. So, I stack my planned purchases on the stroller. It just so happens that my middle name is Swiper.

I knew I liked something about that pesky little fox.

But seriously, I’m not a thief. Never have been.

Not unless you count the time when I was like, 6. I asked my Mom if I could have that cute little bag of Chicklets in the check out lane at Publix grocery store. She said no. I said ok. And then I started to salivate. So I took them anyway. It was only when she spied me in the rear view mirror on the way home, chomping on those delicious little bits, that she realized I stole them. So, she made a U-turn and ushered me right back into Publix. She got the manager, told me to return the contents of the bag and give him a biiiig apology. He stared down at me with his big glasses, and feigned a scold of some sort. All I know is it scared me but good.

Never did it again.

Until now.

Nice, huh?

Has anyone else become a clepto at the door of motherhood?