When I was younger, I went through a bit of a theft phase. My brother and I used to go to a grocery store, ironically called Cops, and we would steal fishing lures and all kinds of stuff. We’d stick the lures down our pants. No one said criminals were smart.
We would make up elaborate stories to tell our parents how we got them, like we found them on the lake or a friend gave them to us. Our grandmother didn’t believe us, you could tell.
It was a chunk of time. I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was just fun. Maybe we wanted the stuff. Or maybe it was just the thrill of getting away with it. I guess we just grew out of it.