My conscience started taking over me. To take or not to take? It was now or never. The sight of the big bulky wallet made my heart beat faster and faster. The living room was dead silent and the wallet was lying on the dressing table, mocking me. My hands were itching and twitching. I could hear the sizzling sound of the fish being fried. Mum was cooking in the kitchen. Without thinking straight, I sneaked into the living room with no eyes watching me.
I tip-toed, like a mouse avoiding the cat, to the living room. Just a meter away from the wallet, I could feel the tension. It was like someone stabbing my back, making me walk the plank. I thrusted out my hand and grabbed the wallet concealing it with my T-shirt. I told myself, “I can finally buy the game!”
As I was hopping with joy back to my room, my domestic helper came out of nowhere, giving me a suspicious look. Beads of perspiration trickled down my ghostly white face as my hands were on my shirt.
“Michael, what is in your hand?” asked my helper. I immediately reacted by saying that it was the house phone and dashed to my room, leaving my maid confused.
I quickly closed the door so my mom would not get suspicious about anything. But mom was a psychologist, so it was not easy for me to hide myself in a shell for long.
When lunch was ready, I swallowed huge chunks of food. My mother could see through me very well. To conceal my discomfort, I pretended to be sleepy. When I was almost done eating, my mom asked me,”Son, do you need money? I will give it to you if you want to buy something you like.” I almost started to tear when my mom said that to me.
I was filled with guilt. I knew I would have fallen into my mother’s guilt trap. I could not take the pressure, so, I came up with an operation. An operation called “Operation GUILT”.
After lunch, my mother realized that her wallet was missing. She remained calm as if nothing had happened. The tension was high. I needed a breather so I asked for permission to buy a drink. I sprinted down the stairs and bought a drink when something caught my eye. An A four sized envelop! I bought it with a fifty-cent stamp. I took the wallet and placed it into the envelope and wrote down my house’s particulars on it. I brought it home and said that someone had delivered my mom’s wallet back to her with all her cards and cash.
“Michael, stop trying to lie to me. I know you took the wallet. If it was posted to me, they would have stamped the date.” I felt stupid and did not know what to say. I soon apologised to her and promised not to do it again. “Apology accepted son. But, you won’t get away with this.”
That day, I got it good and proper from mum. It was certainly one little adventure worth remembering.