The Wrong Line and Integrity . . .

So, I've come to the conclusion that I am magnetically drawn to the wrong line in the grocery store. You know the lines, where it's the cashier's first day, the bank card won't work, lady has more coupons than I do diapers for my children, etc. Such has been my experience more often than not. This is the infamous story of my adventure with three kids (three and under) in tow at a large grocery store for the annual caselot sale.

As we enter the store, my three-year-old spots the race car cart and decides that this is what we need for our shopping experience. I mean this thing is the Cadillac of shopping carts - just as large and awkward to steer as the Cadi's of the 60's. So, I oblige him and drag the kids back into a cubby hole filled with hundreds of carts. Fortunately, the race car cart was near the front so that I didn't have to juggle the carts too much. My young boys excitedly jump into their race car, ready to conquer the store. I, on the other hand, realize that I have a problem, a rather big problem. Where am I going to put my baby? I can't very well put her in the basket. I mean, I'm at the caselot sale and I have a long list of items, where would I put all of my cases of food? And did I mention this fancy race car, covers the bottom rack of the cart, so that is clearly not an option for stacking food. I try to convince my boys that we should get a different cart, but they wouldn’t hear it. It was like trying to convince my boys that liver and onions tastes better than ice cream - it's not going to happen. Anyway, I decide to break the rules, ignore the clearly marked posting on the cart that says, "Do not put your child here." I figured I could balance her car seat on the bar between the basket and the race car and she wouldn't fall. I was right. It was a perfect fit; however, I am what you would call, vertically challenged or short. With my sweet baby up on that bar in a car seat I could barely see over her to steer the cart.

So, I set off with high hopes of tackling my list in the shortest time possible and without any tears, fights, or whining. As I begin, I realize just how difficult it is to push this race car, Cadillac cart. Here I am trying to go up and down aisles in a grocery store that I am not familiar with, realizing that what I want is now behind me. I attempt to turn my cart around and nearly take out a cardboard display of soups. I decide to just back up. At this point, I realize that I need a little beeper like they have on the motorized scooters to warn other patrons that I am in motion. That and perhaps a wide load sign. You should have seen the looks I was getting. I don't know if they were looks of sympathy, frustration, awe, or please don't run my children over!

Somehow, I managed to find most of what I needed and a few other things that I didn't really need. I was truly becoming quite a spectacle. My basket was overflowing, I had boxes shoved underneath my boys' feet and I still needed buckets and rolled oats. After walking up and down 17 different aisles, I finally found the buckets. Now where to put them? I rearranged the items in my basket for the fourth time and managed to secure my buckets into the cart, however, now I can't see over Callie and the buckets. This creates quite the situation. I decided to press on. I was on a mission, you see and there wasn't anything that was going to stop me. I decided to stop and ask for directions to the rolled oats and was directed to a narrow cubby in the front of the store. By this point, I almost have to get a running start to even get my cart moving. I reach my destination and realize that the oats are in a 50 lb. bag. Now, I'm an optimist and a realist. I realized there was no way I could fit this into my cart. I decided to head to the check-out and let the cashier know that I wanted one of those bags of oats to add to my already bulging cart.

I found a short line and thought, "Yay me! I survived the caselot sale without any tears, fights or whining. My baby didn't fall off of the cart and I didn't run anyone over." I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I approached the cashier and jokingly stated, "You are going to love me with all these groceries!" He said something humorous in return and I thought I'll be out of here and on my way home within minutes . . . or so I thought.

I'm pretty sure it had to be the cashier's first day. He did fairly well at ringing up my regular groceries. He only deleted one item, however with my caselot stuff, it was a nightmare. Now, with most caselot sales, you just tell the cashier what you have and how many and they punch in the codes so that you don't have to unload everything. My cashier didn't know any of the codes and apparently wasn't given a "code book." So, the bagger boy, trying to be helpful, would read him the bar code. I watched in awe and stunned silence as the cashier typed only two of the 7-10 numbers bagger boy just read. The poor kid just didn't know where the numbers were or couldn't type fast enough. Then, cashier boy would say it didn't work. Bagger boy would then read numbers again and AGAIN it somehow didn't work. Now, I've been a cashier at a grocery store before and I know it can be a bit stressful, so I was really trying to be patient and understanding. But, as the line behind me continued to grow with people in a hurry (who seemed to think that this was somehow my fault) giving me dirty looks, I began to lose patience. Cashier boy finally found his book and entered a few codes correctly. Yay for him! But then he would accidentally delete the item and we would be back at square one. He entered a wrong code for applesauce and almost charged me over $50 for what should have cost maybe $8. I started unloading my Cadillac and putting items to be scanned, while bagger boy held my 50lb bag of rolled oats on his shoulder. I was almost to the point of getting mean and getting mad. Finally, somehow, by some miraculous means I was exiting the store with my Cadillac of carts overflowing with groceries and children after checking out for nearly 15 minutes.

Bagger boy offered his assistance, and well, I had to accept it because there was no way I could get everything to my car by myself. Once at my car, I told bagger boy to put the buckets in my front seat so that I could get everything into my trunk. Bagger boy didn't listen and threw them in my trunk, at which point I dismissed him. I mean, he wasn't going to do it right anyway and I had had enough! Well, here I am with my three kids in the cart, unloading groceries when a lady who was behind me in line, comes up to me and offers her assistance. What a kind and sweet woman. So, together we loaded my car with several cases of food and other groceries. I thanked her for her help, loaded up the kiddos, started the car and was ready to finally leave the large unfamiliar grocery store, when a thought entered my mind, "check your receipt."

This seemed like a good idea, given the many complications that had occurred in the checkout line. I took out my shopping list and compared it to my receipt and what do you know? Cashier boy didn't charge me for a case of juice. Now, at this point you might be thinking, just forget about it. You deserve the free juice after your horrendous experience. But, I couldn't. A line from a *General Conference talk kept repeating in my mind, “Are you willing to sell your integrity for a 25-cent newspaper and three hotel towels?” My integrity was worth more than the $10 of juice. So, I turned off my car, unbuckled my children, and marched across the parking lot with three kiddos in tow to pay for the juice. I can't say that I had the best attitude about the situation, but I was grateful that I had done the right thing for my conscience was clear. The cashier was genuinely surprised as I returned to pay for the juice.

I don’t tell this story to boast of myself, but to illustrate that we each have opportunities to exhibit honesty and integrity daily. Sometimes those opportunities present themselves at the most inopportune times. We may be prone to make excuses to justify our inactions thinking no one will ever know. But dear friends, you know and our Heavenly Father knows and the guilt that follows can be a heavy burden to carry. I am by no means perfect or even close to it. I have made and continue to make mistakes, but I’ve learned that mistakes can be the best teacher, if we utilize them as opportunities for growth by repenting, improving and striving to be better. 

How will you respond when your integrity is on the line? Are you willing to sell your integrity for a 25-cent newspaper and three hotel towels (or in my case, a case of juice)? It is my hope that we will be men and women of integrity striving to do that which is right at all times and in all places.

~Love me~Kristen

* Link for the talk

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2006/10/three-towels-and-a-25-cent-newspaper?lang=eng