I remember clearly a day that I failed to get my Mother’s attention in time. I thought there was something on the checkout counter for free that she had missed. It was somewhat common at the time, given out at drug stores, and sent through the mail by realtors, so I had grabbed the calander that I was sure she had missed. She was zipping up her change purse and taking her bag, and had already crossed the invisible “pay line.” I started to follow, and also crossed the line, but to my horror, noticed a look from the cashier. I asked, “is this free?” She said, “no,” and I put the item back in warp speed, hoping that a hole would open up and take me away. My Mother had somehow managed to miss everything, because I had only barely gotten her attention at that point, and she shrugged the whole thing off as if the pay line wasn’t even an inch away from being arrested and being taken to jail for shoplifting. She didn’t even seem to notice, what was probably a beat-red face. I was so humiliated. How could I have not known it wasn’t free? How could I ever go into that store again? That cashier would surely recognize me. Oh I was sick to my stomach! I had crossed a barrier that was so incredibly strong to me.