The basket has limits

An original comic personal essay about carrying a shopping basket.

The basket began as an expression of restraint. I needed three things, and its smallness appeared to confirm the quality of my character.

At first, it was an agreeable companion. Bread lay beside apples, and there was room for a jar which had not been on the list but seemed willing to explain itself. Then I added a packet, then another, and the handle began delivering its opinion directly into my fingers.

A trolley passed with the effortless confidence of a ship. Its owner had both hands free to consider an enormous bag of rice. I looked down at my own compact achievement and wondered whether principles ought to leave such a clear mark on the skin.

By the next aisle, every new item required a little rearrangement. The basket had become an argument I was carrying. I could put something back, acquire another container or continue pretending that the problem was merely an unfortunate angle of the handle.

I returned the extra packets to their shelves. The basket grew easier without becoming a different basket, a development which felt more instructive than I wished it to.

At the checkout, the original three things were present with the jar. I will not claim a perfect victory. I will say that the basket had made one part of the conversation difficult to ignore.

Examine the methods the writer uses to present the basket as a challenge to self-justification.