Lying, Stealing and Growing

That Little Voice 

Lying and stealing were my ‘go to’ reactions for many years. And truth be told, may still be.

I was a regular taker of ‘not my’ funds as an elementary school girl. wrapping my fingers around nickels, dimes and sometimes quarters from the tray of change left for soft drinks by the back shop printers working in my parents’ newspaper office.

If questioned about it, I had no qualms of denying any knowledge of those ‘lost’ coins. And even before that, as a mere six-year-old, I could remove my favorite candies from the lower shelves at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store, almost undetected.

I had to give up that thievery when the manager of the store chased me home as I threw unpaid bubble gum, Tootsie rolls, and Babe Ruth bars along the town’s main street, to empty my pockets of all those confiscated treasures.

As a teenager, my mother caught me taking money from her purse, and that was embarrassing when she called me out on it in front of guests.

When I was above the age of twenty-one, my physically absconding with money that was not mine seemed to diminish. Apparently, the threat of incarceration overcame my desire to have something that wasn’t mine, but it took much longer to curtail my mouth from sprouting out untruths, half-truths, and made-up excuses.

I’d like to believe I’ve matured to the point of not needing to lie about how old I am, what I weigh, why I’m late to a gathering, or why I failed to do something I promised to do. My imagination seems to have run its course, and all my excuses have been overused leaving me unable to magically create a believable falsehood.

I do wonder what need I had as a child to take coins and candy. Do all kids have a desire to take what is not theirs? Or was I exhibiting the traits of a would-be heister? I will never know since analysis of my childhood traumas is beyond my memory file folder.

I’m just grateful I no longer suspiciously cast my eyes around to avoid detection as I nonchalantly palm a pen I like and stroll out of the bank. No, I just take it without a concern of being caught. Who’s going to arrest an elderly woman with pink hair who has trouble remembering what she had for breakfast?

I just wish I could perfect a look of honesty when I get caught stretching the truth. Truthfulness is a bit harder to perfect than stealing.