Ava's picture reads: "I'm sorry for taking something from your store. I just wanted it. That was wrong. I won't do that again. Sorry."Well, Ava did a "no-no." A big "no-no." She asked for something while at the store and Mom said no. The little plastic cell phone that really held 4 kinds of lip gloss went back into the cubby by the register. I thought that was the end of it, but a day later, while at home, Bettina pointed out that it was in the house anyway. She said she found it in Ava's "secret pocket." So, I approached Ava. She spend some awkward time trying to think of a good reason why it was in the house and not the store, and then she quickly says she found it "on the floor." Interrupting, I finally cut to the chase. "Ava, you know why I'm disappointed right now, don't you." She nods, eyes now pointing downward and unable to meet my gaze. "Tell me why," I lead, and she spills her guts. Instead of putting the cool lip gloss into the cubby, she put it into her pocket while I was at the check out counter. I tell her about what will happen next: a trip to the store where she will ask for the manager who may, if they wish, call the police. She will also return the item as well as offer to pay for it (even though she didn't open the wrapper). She agrees, goes to her piggy bank and pulls out the $3.37 within. It's $1.58 short of the value. I ask her what we should do. She offers to work it off over the weekend. We make a list: "make my bed everyday, clean to toys downstairs even if they're not my mess, help mom clean the walls and moldings with a rag, collect the chicken eggs even if it's raining (which it will - a lot - this weekend), and write a note with an apology to bring to the store." Although I'm disappointed that she boldly stole something from a store, I'm impressed with how bravely and cooperatively she deals with the consequences.
Perhaps we all have a story like Ava's. I remember having to go to the Thrifty store in my hometown and come clean to someone there. I don't remember the thing I took, but I remember the face of the man that had to listen to me. I'm sure my mother remembers what it was that I took. I also remember how horrified I was about having to go to my great-grandmother and tell her that I lifted some small little ornament I admired from her house. I really didn't want to disappoint her. My mother would probably remember what I took from her house, too.
I'm hoping that this exercise will do the same thing for Ava: she may not remember years from now what the item was that was so tempting that she had to take it right then and there, however, I'm hoping that she will remember the face of the manager she must face tomorrow and will adjust her need for immediate satisfaction in the future.
