Price of a Potty

It’s been 22 years since I potty-trained my youngest child. The details are murky, but I do remember two things: (1) candy was part of it, and (2) all 7 of them got it done.

Today my bathroom once again has a child’s potty in it. Emerald has shown signs of readiness, so Birgitta and I bought two, one for her home and one for mine.

The day I bought them, I stacked the identical potties inside each other on the store check-out belt. But when I got home, I’d been charged for only one. The checker must have swiped them simultaneously.

A 34-mile round trip separated me from the nearest Walmart, and I didn’t have time to head back, but I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t straighten it out.

What bothered me most was knowing I’d have to convince Customer Service to take the $10 I owed. I’ve learned from past experience it’s not always easy to be honest. I considered dropping $10 into the church offering on Sunday to clear my guilt, but by the next day, I knew what I had to do.

While awaiting my turn at Customer Service I rehearsed my lines. “This may sound funny, but I owe you $10.” Or, “I never paid for this potty and want to pay now.”

Then I thought about the receipt in my hand, knowing the check-out girl’s identity was encoded there. Would my desire for a clean conscience cost her her job? Maybe I should just walk through the aisles and place my potty back on the shelf, which would cancel my debt. Better yet, I could walk to a check-out counter and just buy it again.

No doubt God was getting a good chuckle watching me ride my moral merry-go-round.

Scripture teaches us to do the right thing, labeling it “righteousness.” We shouldn’t have to argue ourselves into it but should just practice it without pause, never worrying about the response of others. In the process, we’ll develop positive character traits that please God. Doing the right thing isn’t usually easy, but once we make it our default behavior, it takes less and less effort.

When it was finally my turn at Customer Service, the young girl there furrowed her brow as I stumbled over my words trying to land somewhere between criminal (shoplifter?) and saint (too honest). Bracing myself for resistance, I was thrilled when she simply said, “No problem.”

She swiped the potty, collected my money, and handed me a receipt. As I turned to go she said, “Good thing you came back and paid for it. If you hadn’t, your granddaughter might never have gotten trained.”