I let my toddler shoplift from Target.
She’s quite adept at shoplifting, really. She put the fancy Easter hat on her head, tags dangling and all, then distracted the check-out clerk with a stream of questions about the price of princess lipgloss, which we were not going to get. I paid $41 for all the soap & shampoo & cleaning products & swimming goggles we were getting. As usual, each visit to Target ends up costing me more than I expect. So, as we were walking out the store and I noticed that Soph still had on the $7 sunhat, that we hadn’t paid for, I just chose to remain quiet.
I always tell the supermarket check-out clerk to be sure to ring up the odwalla juice Soph is sipping on.
I tell clerks in small stores to be sure to charge us for the barrette that’s already in Soph’s hair.
But I don’t tell the Target clerk. Something about that giant corporation irks me. I think I might tell them if I was worried that Soph was shoplifting deliberately, maliciously, but she’s not: she’s just not yet aware that you have to put everything on the conveyor belt at the checkout counter. It’s my bad-mom confession of the day.