For those of you who wonder...my mom does not remember what caused her to discover the books. We are brutally honest with each other these days so it would be okay for her to admit if she had been snooping through my room, but alas, that was not it. She promised she would try and jog her memory. For now, that is all I could ask of her.
Less you prejudge me and think I was an obstinate child let me assure you I was not only obstinate (and still am today), but I was a kleptomaniac also. Yes, I must admit it. Even now if you invite me to your home be careful lest I steal something right out from under your nose. *wink
The first time I remember stealing something I must have been about 5 years old. I was in tow with my mom at the local Goldblatt's store. They were a local chain of discount stores started in 1914 in the mid-west. I found a little purse I could just not stand to live without and lo and behold I swiped it. I took it home with me. My little party was over when my mother discovered I had stolen it, marched me back to talk to the store manager, and confessed my sin to him. Not only THAT, they made me give the purse back! I thought if my mother truly loved me she would have at least bought that purse for me. At least let me keep it but never, never, never make me apologize for stealing it and give it back, too.
That was the last thing I stole for quite awhile...well, at least until I was in kindergarten and there was that big fat pencil at the bookstore at Blessed Sacrament school I had my eye on....but that is a story for another day.