once upon a time, i stole something

I'm not sure when I stopped being a teenager. I know I crossed that line from nineTEEN to twenty. I got married. I had children. I ended up with a mortgage. Then a mortgage loan. I bought a van. I got a divorce. I started worrying about my fiber intake. These should probably all have clued me in that I was getting, um, older.

Maybe it's because I still maintain so many of the friendships I had as a teenager, and a conversation or fun night (or early evening...I am old, after all) out with one of those friends can bring memories pouring back at light speed. We are who are today--older, wiser, actually better looking individuals--but beneath all the grown-upedness, we are still who we were back then, too. In our minds, we still wear Doc Martens and kilts with ripped fishnets. We still make take an hour to curl our hair like Julia Roberts. We still drive our junky cars too fast while blasting Depeche Mode and The Cure and Nine Inch Nails. We can still polish off a whole half of a large pizza washed down with Diet Coke and not gain a pound. Our futures still seem limitless and frightening.

There is a point to this...

One thing I managed to avoid as a teenager that, sadly, a lot of my friends indulged in, was shoplifting. I remember getting so angry when I would be at the mall or in the ShopKo with them and find out they'd stolen something. Usually something stupid like a box of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle band-aids or a pair of underwear that looked like a rooster's face. I was never angry enough, or brave enough, however, to turn them in. "To each his own," I would rationalize. But still, I knew if they got caught, I'd be in trouble too.

Then came the day when the choice was mine to make. I was spending the night at one of my good friend's houses as I did on a regular basis. Her mom worked at the Clinique counter and wore one of those white lab coats that elevated her to the status of scientist of cosmetics. She would bring home all kinds of samples and extra products and file them away in one of the three big drawers in their bathroom--a treasure trove of well-organized make up, nail polish, and perfume. I just happened to be looking through one of those drawers when I noticed she had two tubes of (what I now recognize as the most hideous) iridescent pink-purple-silver lipstick. It was completely wrong for my hair/eye/ complexion but I thought I resembled Alyssa Milano with it on....

So, figuring neither my friend nor her mom would miss it....I took the tube of lipstick. I put it in my pocket. And I took it.

And I think I wore it a total of three times.

Every time I would drag it across my lips, I'd feel guilty. Again, though, I wasn't brave enough to do anything about it. I couldn't imagine taking it back, offering it in my open palm, weeping, and being branded an untrustworthy thief. I never told my mom (or anyone) so there was no one to offer perspective. No one to tell me that it was still better to do the right thing despite the consequences...and that the consequences probably wouldn't be that bad. Back then I feared the worst of every situation, an attitude I'm sure I don't struggle with as an adult. *cough*

 That tube of lipstick stayed with me up until I finally purged it four years ago when packing  for our move. I suppose I had held onto it for sentimental reasons. I remember when I ran across it again, I pulled off the cap--still the same awful shade, and I thought back on the course of my life, how I had tried my best to rectify any and every bad thing I could recall doing...but had never taken responsibility for my stint as a thief.

It was time.

I found out how much a tube of Clinique lipstick was selling for ($12) and sent a check to that friend whom I hadn't spoken to for at least ten years. I never heard anything back, but my clear conscious was all the thanks I needed.


-
I'm sure shoplifting is still popular amongst teenagers. It's certainly easy enough to 'steal' music and videos and software nowadays, in addition to the typical five-finger discounting. I may or may not have to deal with this issue with my boys at some point. But I would go into such a situation armed with my personal tale of theft-- which will be richly embellished to include handcuffs, jail time and hard labor, of course :).

Your turn: Ever steal anything? Or ever get the chance to right a wrong from your past?