Flashback Friday: Honesty is a Scary Policy

Mason has now reached the stage of toddlerhood where he thrills at the chance of getting in trouble and running away from us. Seriously, nothing brings a sparkle to his eyes as quickly as hearing, "No, Mason...." James and I are trying to figure out some way to teach our wonderful little chap how to be a well behaved and moral and sometimes the task feels daunting (especially when he is giggling during his "time out"). Even though I do believe that Mason is innately good and innocent, I do feel responsibility to raise him well.

Often I catch myself looking back to my childhood and wondering what my parents did to teach me and my siblings. And then I chuckle. They did a wonderful job teaching us right from wrong, but sometimes even their best efforts could not deter sneaky little me.

Honesty is a Scary Policy:

When I was a little girl, I had a major soft spot for anything small. I would play with my collection of little garage sale nick-knacks till the cows came home. I would build them houses out of our wooden blocks, play with them in bushes outside, and daydream of getting more of them.

At the top of my dream list of toys were Charmkins. They were little fairy globs of plastic with a hook on top of their head so that they could actually be used as a charm for a fancy bracelet, necklace, and the like. My favorite perched themselves on pretty pink sunglasses. Oh how I wanted them!

Now, I did not own a Charmkin, but the little girl across the street had oodles of them. In fact, she had oodles of everything....except for personality. She was a spoiled little bully that I would otherwise not have spent time with, if it weren't for her toys. I could put up with anything, it seemed, if it meant that I could play with her Jem doll for an hour.

One day, while we were going through her loot in her bedroom, we came across the most adorable little Charmkin I had ever seen. While I cradled it in my hand, she told me how she had lots of them so it wasn't that cool. That was when I knew what I had to do. Steal it. Save this little beauty from a place where she wasn't appreciated and bring her into a home where she wold be crowned as the queen of toys! When my friend turned away, I slipped her into my pocket. It was so easy!

Sometime later, I was playing with my new Charmkin when my mom asked me where she came from. I quickly made up some transparent lie and she quickly saw through it. I finally confessed. I, her firstborn daughter, had stolen and she was so let down. She reminded me why it was wrong to steal and then told me to march across the street and return her to my friend and apologize.

What?! To that horrid little girl?! Then she would never let me play with her toys again! Oh the shame of it all.

Off I trudged while she observed everything from the kitchen window. I crossed our lawn and turned back to see my mom watching. Crossed the street. Still watching. Walked up her drive-way. Still being watched. Was I really going to have to go through with this?!!! However, when I got to her front door and was about to knock, I saw that my mom was no longer there (thank goodness for other siblings competing for her attention). Hot dog! Quick as a cat, I chucked the Charmkin on the girl's grass and high tailed it out of there! I was saved from the embarrassment!

When I got back inside, my mom asked, "Did you give it back?"

"Yes."

"Did you say you were sorry?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel better now that you are honest again?"

"I feel wonderful!" And I did. I got away with it all.

It wasn't until a couple years ago that I finally admitted to my mom that her lesson on honesty had not gone as she had planned. The toy was returned (I made it a point to play with my neighbor on her front grass and "found" her missing toy and she thanked me profusely), but I learned that a lie could be a wonderful tool in a pinch.

So, I guess I will continue to try my best with Mason but I won't be surprised if I hear a similar story 20 years down the road. Motherhood truly is humbling.