One of the children usually starts grabbing the contraband material as quickly as possible if he or she can reach it. Now I am in the position of getting him to relinquish it by invoking some brand of voodoo or snatching it forcefully from his steely grasp. All the while I am trying to unload the cart, find my credit card, sign the slip and leave with some dignity. As I feel an increasing number of eyes on us, the stress tends to increase. On a bad day I ask myself, “Why do they always do this. Where did I go wrong? People must think I am the most pathetic mother ever” I tense up and start hissing threats through my teeth. I am trying not to attract attention, but it’s way beyond that now. The person behind us bangs down her groceries pointedly to hustle the show along. Perhaps there is even a defining moment during the scene when the child hurls herself backwards onto the floor, refusing to move.