Arrest Me! I Recently 'Stole' 4 Seed Packets

Last week, I shoplifted.

Before you rush to judge me, let me clarify: I didn’t realize I had committed a crime until I was loading the items I’d bought at Walmart into the trunk of my car. Honest.

The last item I moved was a small bag of printer ink, for which I’d paid a hefty price in the Electronics Department. It was then that I noticed something odd: four loose packets of Zinnia seeds tucked beneath the ink bag. Oh no. I’d missed scanning and paying for them.

In that moment, I had to admit, I’d just stolen $5.76 worth of seeds (well, $6.24, if you count the 48 cents in tax). But I was already halfway out of the parking lot, and there was no way I was going back into that Walmart. I had already spent over an hour inside that madhouse, retracing my steps through aisles, hunting down forgotten items. The last thing I wanted was to trek back inside for a $5.76 mistake.

So, I did what many of us do when we’re faced with a moral dilemma: I rationalized my way out of it. The seeds weren’t even a dollar fifty each! It hardly seemed like a big deal, and anyway, Walmart was a massive corporation, right? They wouldn’t miss my $5.76. Besides, who wants to face the cold, windy day to make such a small correction?

I convinced myself that I had paid my dues for the day. After all, didn’t they say, "You win some; you lose some?" In this case, Walmart lost. I drove home, hoping the universe would balance itself out soon enough.

Then, as I sat in my car, it hit me: I could’ve just gone back to the greeter at the entrance, handed them the seeds, and explained that I’d made a mistake. But no. That thought was too inconvenient. Plus, I figured there was no way a simple mistake like mine would result in any real consequences.

Looking back, I’m sure my late mother would’ve been disappointed. She was the one who taught me the hard lesson about stealing. When I was a little girl, I took a piece of Dubble Bubble gum from the local Crest Foods store in Midwest City, OK. Another kid had done it, and I followed suit, thinking no one would notice.

But my twin sister caught me in the car, asking where I’d gotten the gum. Before I knew it, our mother had marched me back inside the store, where I sobbed my way through a confession to the cashier. I remember the heat of shame on my face and the feeling of being so small in front of a grown-up.

From that moment, I never stole again—until the seeds. I swear, that wasn’t intentional. But still, I couldn’t help but think about how far I had come since that childhood mistake.

Did you know that shoplifting is considered larceny, and depending on the value of the stolen goods, it can be classified as either petit or grand larceny? In Oklahoma, penalties range from fines to jail time. For items over $500, you could face up to five years in prison and a $5,000 fine. For goods under $500 (like my $5.76 worth of seeds), the penalties are less severe—up to 30 days in jail or a fine between $10 and $500.

Could you imagine being locked up over a packet of Zinnia seeds? I know stealing is serious, but the thought of my little seed theft leading to jailtime makes me laugh. It reminds me of that classic "Citizen's Arrest" scene from The Andy Griffith Show. In the episode, Deputy Barney Fife gives his friend, Gomer Pyle, a ticket for an illegal U-turn, only for Gomer to turn around and make a citizen's arrest of Barney for the same violation. It’s absurd but hilarious. Barney ends up serving five days in jail to protest his $5 fine.

I couldn’t help but think of myself in that scenario: a criminal in the eyes of the law, with a petty crime causing cosmic chaos.

But the universe, in its infinite wisdom, quickly intervened.

Just a few days later, my husband planted the seeds from my four stolen packets, and as I was once again shopping at Walmart (the scene of my crime), he called. “Hey, pick up some more seeds,” he said. “I think we’re running low.”

This time, I made sure to meticulously scan the four seed packets in my basket. I felt a little nervous, like I was being watched. And then, as if fate were keeping track, a store clerk in a blue vest appeared at my register. “I’m here about the wine,” he said, eyeing me with a raised eyebrow. “Are you under 40?”

Caught off guard, I blinked, then stammered, “No.” It took me a second to process what he was asking, but apparently, I had passed the age test.

As I moved on to the parking lot, I began the tedious task of moving my bags from the cart to the car. That’s when I saw it—a seed packet had blown under my car. I scrambled to catch it, feeling somewhat relieved that at least I wouldn’t be short a packet this time.

But when I got home, something was off. I unloaded my groceries and found that only one of the four seed packets I had purchased was actually in the bags. The other three? Nowhere to be found.

Maybe they had blown out of the bag as well. Maybe they were taken by the universe, balancing out my previous misdeed. Whatever the case, I figured I’d been given a pass.

In the grand scheme of things, I guess I came out even: I had stolen four packets of seeds, bought four more, and lost three. That’s not a bad trade, right?

So, what’s the moral of the story? I think it’s this: You reap what you sow. Maybe not immediately, but in the end, the universe always finds a way to right itself.