Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide

Jimmy Cricket must have been busy perusing the job ads when you waltzed into the candy store. Mom was busy pushing the cart toward the checkout. The smell of the peppermint dancing in your lungs. Price of the peppermint was 20 cents. Jingle, jingle in her little coin purse. Only 5 cents. While mom was distracted, you put the peppermint in your fuzzy pocket and run out of the store.

As you leave the store mom notices you have the candy. Busted! Tear streaked faced as mom drags you kicking and screaming back into the store to apologize. Then the guilt is poured on like molasses.

Maybe it is bitterness or seasoned experience that causes me to doubt any story that is presented to me. My cynical side has witnessed it all.

I remember when I was younger my sister was running around in the living room in a pink jacket. My dad was trying to take a nap and was annoyed. Half groggy he seen a pink flash. My sister knowing of the impending spanking threw the pink coat on my little brother. Dad, full of anger took my brother and whooped him hard. It didn’t pay off for her as soon as dad realized what really happened she was punished.

This past week has been filled with dishonesty in all shapes and forms. From the call I received asking for the model number on the office fax machine to the man wondering around pretending he ‘ran out of gas’ and needed money. To family members that burn each other continuously. Sadly, even my husband has been caught in a string of whoppers. Maybe I’m too nice to confront the liars, terrified of some retaliation or afraid of the awful truth.

Who am I to complain? I go into the 10 items or less lane with 20 items. I tell my professor my homework was left at home, knowing full well it wasn’t done. When I worked as a cashier I called in sick but I really was hung over.

The lies or truth have a way of biting us in the butt. A few months ago I took my kids to Old Country Buffet. I told the cashier they kids were younger to get a discount. My kids decided to point out the lie and yell “That’s not my age!” I felt exposed and humiliated. Ashamed of myself that I would ask my kids to be dishonest.

The world would be a better place if everyone had Pinocchio syndrome. Or at least a green BFF in a top hat with the battle cry “let your conscience be your guide.”

If only the people around the world would feel guilty like that day in the candy store. Is that temporary sweet reward really worth the crime?