Last night I did my monthly grocery shopping. I made a list, gathered coupons, packed up the kid, grabbed my wallet, and made the 30 minute trek to SUPERWALMART!.

We're frugal shoppers in my house- we bought only what we needed (& he convinced me he needed to try a box of 'Lunchables'), we budgeted, we carried refrigerated products around the store for hours and then put them back. We stopped at the men's rest room, proceeded to the deli, ate some cheese, brought our items to the register, and started checking out. All in all a good trip.

As the cashier rang out the orange soda I'd grabbed, I opened it and took a much needed sip. Then he rang up the box of Lunchables that my son had drawn pictures of robots and lions all over (he was bored).

It was in the middle of him ringing up the Lunchables that I realized my checkbook wasn't in my wallet. It wasn't in the cart. In fact, I was almost positive that my checkbook had never even made it out of the house. Which is 30 minutes away. I recently cut up all of my credit cards. And I don't carry cash. I didn't have a penny on me.

So I did the only thing a girl in a situation involving stolen cheese, defaced boxes, and half-drunken beverages could do-I made the cashier continue ringing up the whole order, had the manager take everything, bagged and thawing, to the courtesy counter so that I could go search in my car for my checkbook (which I knew wasn't there). I promised I'd be right back.

Then I left.

And I went home. My son cried because now he'd never be able to try Lunchables. I cried because I could never go to SUPERWALMART! again.

I cried because I was a SUPERWALMART! bandit. Within hours there'd be life-sized photos of me posted all over Walmarts throughout the country that read- CHEESE THIEF-SHOOT ON SIGHT. I'd have to dye my hair blond and wear sunglasses if I wanted to go back. I'd have to gain 100 lbs. I'd have to dress my son like a girl.

We had to leave the country immediately. I'd make the 10 o'clock news. One of my enemies (I have 2) would recognize me and turn me in. I'd go to jail. My son would be raised by elephants. I would die of embarrassment. The world was over.

And it was all my fault.

The guilty and unfortunate realization that I could never go back to Walmart lasted until approximately 8:35 this morning when I had no milk for my cereal. Or raisins. And I needed raisins to make oatmeal cookies. And raisins at the supermarket would cost twice as much as the raisins SUPERWALMART!. And did I mention that I'm cheap? So I decided I had to take the risk and venture back. It'd be like an Indiana Jones movie.

Luckily I hadn't forgotten the wisdom of my disguise plan from the night before. So I changed into my black coat. I wore my hair down. I put on new sweatpants. I wore makeup. I looked good.

I would be unrecognizable.

But my son- no way, he's too gorgeous to be unrecognizable. Strangers stop in their tracks to marvel over his beautiful eyes. Grown women propose marriage. Birds and small woodland creatures flock to him. Nope. I couldn't risk it. I'd have to leave him behind.

Instead I dragged my cousin along, who's considerably taller, much more feminine, and though she has nice eyes, doesn't have as nice eyes as my son. There's no way they'd know it was me.

When we walked into SUPERWALMART! the greeter gave us smiley-face stickers. There were no posters with my face on the walls. There were no carts full of rotting chicken waiting for me at the service desk. In fact, I don't think the cashier or manager from last night were even working anymore.

So, I shopped. I fought the crowds. I took out my checkbook and I paid.

I didn't get pulled into the back room by a friendly Walmart security guard demanding $1.25 for that bottle of orange soda. I didn't get shot at by whistling smiley faces. Even the nice guy at the deli gladly gave me another pound of Land O Lakes white American cheese without getting suspicious.

NOBODY recognized me!

NOTHING happened!

My disguise had worked!

I was strangely disappointed.

I think I'll have to work on becoming more memorable.