Day 120

Not too long ago, a friend of mine took my kids to get ice cream.  She came back chuckling and said the quote of the day was from my 6-year old who, when leaving the shop said, “Wow, I got ice cream and THREE free spoons”.

So, while this was funny to my friend, it made perfect sense to me.  Spoons are rare and valuable in our house.  We didn’t bring that many with us to Colorado and for some reason, the supply is dwindling.  There are many times that the kids will actually have to WASH A SPOON to have one to use.

So, the traditional American parent in me feels a little guilty that the kids don’t have everything at their fingertips (I know, I know, it is silly, but I suspect there are many of you that feel the same way).  But, on the other hand,  I feel somewhat proud that my child has  finally recognized scarcity and/or there is not an endless supply of stuff.

For a few brief days, I felt pretty good about it.

Then my parent of the year application experienced a setback,  when I realized the same child had found an unacceptable solution to obtaining an item she wanted.  Stuffed under her seat in the car, I found a small bag of polished rocks that a few weeks ago she had begged me for at a museum gift shop that we were passing through.  I, of course, said no and thought that was that.

Except it wasn’t.

Stolen Goods

I probably did not handle it in textbook fashion.  I yelled at her a bit and then I pontificated about ethics and honor which I’m pretty sure sounded like blah, blah, blah to her six-year old ears.  Eventually, I think I got a somewhat simpler “right vs. wrong” point across.  We also talked about how she couldn’t even enjoy them since she had to keep them hidden.  Then, I made her write an apology note and send them back to the museum.  Apparently she felt better writing incognito.

What happens at Mardi Gras, stays at Mardi Gras

Here is the finished product that we sent to the museum gift shop with the rocks.

Subtitle: Please, don’t take me to jail.

In the end, she does seem remorseful.  My first thought was that my Simple Year project was pushing her to a life of crime and it was all my fault.  But, after my husband- always the voice of reason- pointed out he had once stolen a cap gun (and his mother dragged him to the local police station to scare him straight)  and I remembered I lifted a Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers (wild cherry flavor) at a local drug store (and didn’t get caught, but to this day, fake cherry smell makes me slightly nauseous); I figured that our project was probably not the root of the problem.

So, rather than blame myself, I’m chalking it up to one of those childhood things and hopefully we can use this as a teaching moment.  (Avoiding Incarceration 101)