The Expensive Football: Receipt Paper Note Part I

I used to work at a drugstore as a cashier and I was extremely bored most of the time. Whenever I was up at the register and there were no customers, you are supposed to find something productive to do like sweep the floor, or straighten out the candy selection. Instead - when I knew the manager wasn't keeping an eye on me - which I'm assuming he did often, I would let my mind wander and I would jot down random notes on receipt paper that I would manually feed through the machine. The notes include random ideas or memories - either from actual experiences or dreams.

I did this quite often, so I accumulated a pile of receipt-paper notes that I never got rid of. I've been carrying them around, from apartment to apartment, held together by a big binder clip. I thought I would share some of them.

[ 'The Expensive Football'

I think I was around 10 years old. My mother and I were in a store - probably a Target or Walmart. As we were walking down one of the aisles, I spotted one of those big cages full of balls - you know, the ones that usually contain either basketballs, bouncy balls, foam balls. Like most kids, I grabbed one to play with while we were shopping. I don't quite remember what kind of ball it was, but I think it may have been a small foam football of some sort.

As we approached the registers to check out, I asked my mother if she would buy the ball for me. She almost immediate say, "No". I can't remember the wording exactly, but I believe she said it was pricey and that I wouldn't even play with it much. I didn't cry, but became quite sad that I wouldn't get to keep the ball I had grown fond of in the last twenty minutes or so. I don't recall if I put up a fight or begged - or if she just felt bad and sensed my disappointment, but she gave in and bought the ball for me.

At first I was happy, but later on during the drive home I started to feel bad. My family wasn't poor, but we weren't too well off either. I realized maybe I shouldn't have asked for the ball. Maybe I should have just been happy with the toys I already had. Right after getting back home and just as both my mother and I got out of the car, I told her how I felt. She told me, yes the ball was a little expensive, but as long as I enjoyed it, that would make the purchase worthwhile. I smiled and went off to play. I played with the ball for the remainder of the day. I felt better about the purchase and I was determined to get as much joy out of it as possible. ]

This is more or less a true story. I don't know what happened to that ball, but I think I kept it for at least a little while and played with it several more times. Sadly, those foam balls don't last forever before they start to break apart. I wasn't a dramatic child; from what I remember and what I've been told. I was pretty mellow, much like I am now, so I don't think I put up a fuss or begged too much for that ball. I actually don't remember begging for much of anything as a child - and I don't think it had much to do with my family's finances.

If I were to extract a moral of the story, it would be to make the best of the situation - whatever the situation might be. Express how you feel and do something about it.

That's all for now. Stay tuned...