It’s late and the lines are short. Stockton wheels our small cart into a lane and begins to place items on the belt. Our cashier greets us and scans our shopping with odd bits of commentary.
“Can you tell I’m bored?” she says as she bags up boxes and cans. “Ok, that’s $94.”
Stockton signs for our groceries. We thank her and leave. Illuminated by the false daylight of blazing LED lights, we load the car and I return the cart.
“That seemed kind of expensive.” Stockton says, as he drives home the back way, over hills and past horse farms. We have been eating more produce and fish lately, so there were no convenient scapegoats like an expensive meat purchase. Not even a box of energy bars.
”Maybe she scanned the big pack of paper towels twice.“ I shrugged and looked at the backseat, but decided it was more likely I would strain my back than find the receipt. It would have to wait.
The terriers bark, welcoming us at the front door. Stockton let the rambunctious pair outside while I unpacked our groceries. That’s when I found them. I lined up the two mystery items on the counter and waited. Stockton came back inside. I point to them and ask what these are with a smile.
“Sometimes there are advantages to vision loss. Wifey doesn’t necessarily notice every item in the cart.” he says. I agree. The terriers watch us, unaware of the cheesy bacon filled benefits they are about to receive.
Adventures in Low Vision 
I thoroughly enjoyed your story. It reminds me of the day our bill seemed ridiculously high, thanks to the checker who mis-entered our one tomato as $75.
That decimal makes a difference.