Shoplifting

I have never shoplifted in my life. Until today. Almost, that is. Jackson and I went to the grocery store and he sat happily in the cart while I filled it to the brim with cheetos and candy. Not really, I was getting stuff to make lasagna. Be very impressed. Jackson's a curious boy and he reaches for everything at arm's length. There was no way I could keep him from grabbing what was in the cart. My mom advised me that there need to be as many yeses as possible because for the next few years there will be many, many no's. So I put this into practice at Kroger today. Unless he pulled out something from the meat department, it would not be worth inciting the screams that would follow me prying the item from his hands anyway. His item of choice? A bag of shredded cheese. He's his father's son. He had great fun mouthing it and holding it and showing it to the other Kroger patrons. I decided to let the cheese be the last thing given to the cashier, at which point it would become like the velveteen rabbit going into the fire. It wasn't until I got my receipt and began to push the cart forward that I realized Jackson was still playing with the unpaid-for-cheese. The cashier, sacker, and I got a good laugh out of it. I paid for it and left, thankful that I was neither followed into the parking lot by a Kroger employee asking for my $3, nor faced with the dilemma of having to go back inside and pay after getting my kid strapped into his carseat - which could really be an Olympic sport, by the way.