Last night I ran into the Commissary to buy a can of formula. Yes, I'm still nursing, but we usually give Gray a few ounces of formula before bed to make sure his tummy is nice and full.
I grabbed the formula and then a box of Cascade Dishwasher detergent and ran to the check out. All the lines were long so the Japanese clerk at Self Check waved me over seeing I only had a few items. As she helped me, I told her I needed to pay for the Cascade three times. I started to explain and since she didn't understand me, she waved a manager, also a Japanese woman, over to help.
I told them that the last time I was in the Commissary, I put two boxes of Cascade on the bottom of the cart. When I went to check out, I didn't notice them and made it to the car without paying for them--and then didn't have time to run back in. It had been bugging me for a week and I was happy to finally be taking care of the matter so I could finally take the boxes into the house.
Once both women finally understood they looked at me wide-eyed and praised me for my honesty. (I felt like saying "I'm a Mormon. We don't shoplift--unintentionally or otherwise!*" but instead I just smiled.) Then, before I left, the manager told me a story:
An old man had walked into the store and asked to pay for something he had acquired under similar circumstances to mine. She had also praised him for his honesty and he replied; (and the story teller touched her head, ears and heart as she said;)
"I don't have my hair, I don't have my hearing, but I have my dignity!"
Reminded me of this story; "Three Towels and a 25-Cent Newspaper"