So my mom sent me for a few groceries this morning, unknowingly plunging me into what's - for me - one of the most difficult social circumstances. It's a situation I've never quite figured out how to handle correctly. And I saw it coming as soon as my mom handed me the shopping list, scribbled on the back of an old receipt.

So I show up to the grocery store with this list of mine, which was comprised of six items, including two gallons of milk. And as I walked up to the door, I began going over the logistics of it all.

Now I figure the four non-milk items could've been easily juggled without the cart, but the two milks would've certainly complicated things. And I'm capable of holding two gallons of milk in my left hand, but after a minute or so, they really get heavy. Plus, the two carton handles side-by-side really start to hurt my palm after a bit. It's uncomfortable, but do-able nonetheless.

However, I'd have to ensure that none of the other items would slip out of my right hand, because then I'd no longer have my left hand available to help out. The box of kleenex or the cookies would fall to the floor, and then I'd have to figure out how to pick them back up without letting anything else drop. And forget about my left hand getting some relief from those two milks, because my right hand would be of no help. If those milks got to be too heavy, I'd have no back-up plan.

So the easy solution, of course, would be the shopping cart. But this is actually where the trouble begins, and it's really not so simple at all. Because, despite the two milks, my meager collection of six items would not seem to warrant a full-sized shopping cart at all.

And then there are the baskets, which would appear to be the perfect medium between carrying by hand and carrying by cart. Except, I just don't like the baskets. They're a little dainty for my tastes, with those little wire handles. A bit on the effeminate side, it would seem.

So despite my small load, I opted for the shopping cart anyway. I felt having a largely empty cart would draw less attention to myself than exploding a gallon of milk all over the floor. But as I was walking through the store, I just knew what was going to happen when I approached the check-out line.

The cashier would look in my cart with disdain and say, "Hold on, sir, you're not done shopping yet."

And I'd put on my best look of confusion and say, "I'm sorry, what do you mean?", even though I'd know at this point exactly what she meant.

"Look at your cart," she would answer. "You have, what, four or five items? Why would you waste a perfectly good cart for four or five items?"

I'd stare at her blankly, uncertain of how to defend myself. How could I? She'd be right. "I ...um ...well, I-"

"Sir, if you only have a few items, you don't need a cart. Did you ever think of the other customers? Did you ever stop and wonder what would happen if we ran out of carts? What would the next shopper do, if they had a full list of items? They should have your cart available to them, sir. But now, they don't - and all because YOU were too lazy to carry your cookies and your kleenex in your hands."

So as I walked up and down the aisles of the store, pondering all this, I came up with an elaborate explanation for my getting a cart, just in case it came up.

"Well, you see," I'd say to the cashier, "When I first got here, I thought I was going to need a big bag of dog food. So I got a cart because, of course, I couldn't carry a twenty-pound bag of dog food by hand, in addition to all the other things I need. But after I got in the store, my mom called my cell phone and told me to nevermind the dog food, because our neighbor just stopped by and gave us his spare dog food. He doesn't need it anymore because his dog just died. But by the time my mom called to tell me all this, I was stuck with the cart. So I can see why you would think I was wasting a cart, but I can assure you, it was unintentional." Yeah, I know it's an awful story, but it was the best I could come up with, at the time.

"Uh huh," the cashier would say, with an air of skepticism. "Let me see your shopping list, then. Is dog food on the list? Let me see your cell phone."

Crap, that wouldn't work. I don't even have a cell phone, and the jig would be up. Just like that. Not only would I be exposed as a shopping cart-abuser, but as a liar, too.

So I decided I wouldn't use that story, after all. If worst came to worst, I'd just admit my wrongdoing to the cashier, and ask her for forgiveness. I made a few laps around the store, trying to build up my confidence, and finally decided I couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. I approached the check-out.

Of course, the hypothetical scenario that had played out in my head never transpired; these speculative events I concoct hardly ever do. The cashier never said anything beyond my total and my change, I made my way through the check-out process without a word. I could've sworn, though, that I saw her shoot a quick glance of disapproval towards my cart. It was brief, I'll admit, but it was definitely there.

Unfortunately, this isn't the first time this has happened; my mom is always sending me for "a few" groceries. Even more unfortunate is that this process never gets any easier for me. And one of these days, I'm going to catch a cashier brazen enough to call me out - to go beyond the silent look of disapproval and launch into a full lecture.

And when that happens, I want to be ready. I think my first step is to buy a cell phone.