Integrity

"Can we have a sticker please?" the little girl asked for herself and her little brother.

"If you tell me that I have a pretty singing voice and that I've got a shot at being on American Idol, you can have some stickers," Eric replied, bending down more than a little to try and have the conversation at eye level.

The girl continued looking up at Eric, not saying anything.

"All you have to do is tell me that you think I can make it on American Idol. Say 'yes' and you can have some stickers. Do you think that I can be on American Idol?"

The girl thought about it, her little brother looking up at her--unaware that the fate of his stickers rested in her answer.

"No," she said.

"What?!"

"No. Can we have some stickers, please?"

"Well, I'll tell you what. Cause you were honest, and you said 'please'... here's some stickers." Eric unrolled the stickers as he tried to show mock disappointment and rejection spurred on by the 6 year old's brutal and unflinching honesty.

He turned to the mom and, with a huge smile and a twinkle in his eyes, quipped, "Well, there goes my dreams and hopes," holding out his hand with fingers extended, "CRUSHED!!! Oh! What will I do now?!" His eyes focused on his clenched fist, the imaginary fragments of his former life slipping between his closed fingers.

"Well, he asked me if he could be an Idol, and I said 'no'," the girl protested.

Mom couldn't make it

There was a flash of movement that I caught out of the corner of my left eye, then I saw it. The cart came careening towards my register. Only in the last couple of seconds did it appear to decelerate and adjust it's course, but not enough to keep it from hitting the register--though just hard enough to make a bit of noise. The handling of the cart reminded me of the flair and drama a Hollywood stunt driver might execute when,... where was the cart's driver?

I turned my head to look directly at the cart, trying to discern just who had launched the 60 pound, 4 wheel projectile. I saw the top of her head bobbing above the top of cart as she walked behind it and got in line behind the man I was currently helping. The man looked down at her, "Do you have your license?"

"No," she flatly replied, unaware of the humorous intention in his question.

"Well, I guess that's a good thing," he replied. "I mean, if you did have your license and you're driving like that, I'd be a little concerned," he said with an exaggerated smile--again, the humor lost on her.

I kept waiting for the girls parent, or parents, to show up at her side, just getting back from shopping for last second items, but she just stood there by herself, holding onto her coin purse.

I finished ringing up the gentlemen in front of her, and for a second looked over my left shoulder into the heart of the store, waiting for the movement of a parent rushing across the floor to be by the girl's side, but no rushing... just the gentle bustle of normalcy.

I turned my attention to the girl, smiled, and asked, "Is it just you shopping by yourself today?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Are your parents waiting in the car?"

"Yeah, my baby brother's asleep, so mom couldn't come in, so she sent me."

I listened as I scanned the items.

"Did you get everything you were supposed to?" I queried.

"Uh-huh, I wrote down everything she said on the list."

"May I see the list?"

She produced a piece of paper folded into quarters. I took it and opened it. Her writing had taken just about every square inch of the 8 1/2 by 11 inch paper's surface area for the 6 or 7 items. I checked it against everything on the counter. I saw that it was all there and handed her back the list.

"Thirteen dollars and sixty-three cents is your total."

She reached into the coin bag and produced a tightly rolled up bill. She un-rolled the bill and flattened it before placing it on the counter.

"Out of twenty. Do you know what your change is going to be?" I asked.

"Uh, six... no, wait. I don't know. Sixteen dollars?"

"I think you were on the right the track the first time. Your change is going to be six dollars and thirty-seven cents."

"I'm not very good at math--I'm only in the third grade."

"That's OK, but it's important to learn--make sure I'm doing my job right." I punched in the amount tendered into the register and the cash drawer popped out.

"Six dollars and thirty-seven cents is your change, and here's your receipt. Do you want someone to help you out to your car?"

"No, that's OK. My mom will help me," she replied as she stuffed the money into her little purse.

"OK then, have a good day."

"Thank you." She smiled faintly as she pushed the cart towards the automatic doors.

---

In hindsight, it was terribly neglectful of me to let her go out into the parking lot on her own with a cart that probably weighed as much as she did. I'll make sure I don't let that happen again.