If He'd Only Stolen My Heart

I was busy this past weekend googling boarding schools and military academies.

MJ thought I was joking until the recruiter from Missouri Military Academy called. Unfortunately the school doesn’t start until sixth grade, so E still has a few more years until he’s eligible.

E has always been impulsive—it goes along with his ADHD diagnosis. He doesn’t think, he just acts, and that gets him into trouble. We’ve had more than our share of, “What were you thinking?” moments with him.

The incident that had me scouring the internet for reform schools happened at school. E found a wallet on the floor of his classroom. He knew who it belonged to and returned it to his classmate. But when the boy looked inside, something was missing.

Classroom Cash is used to reward students for good behavior or good work. The students can save the funny money and use it to buy the class job of their choice, line leader or board eraser, for example. Several students had done such an exemplary job, the teacher felt the need to bestow upon these lucky few $100 in Classroom Cash.

The classmate’s $100 was missing. But the boy could see it, just inside E’s desk.

The teacher asked E if it was his and he replied, “Yes.”

She knew it didn’t belong to him and when she asked to see the bill, she turned it over, revealing the name of E’s classmate on the back.

He took something that didn’t belong to him and then he lied about it. I wish I could say this was the first time it’s happened.

We’ve always laughed at how E’s bed is like a black hole—if something is missing, check under E’s bed first. He’s like a raccoon; if it’s bright and shiny it will wind up in his wiry little hands. He’s a packrat and destined to wind up on an episode of TLC’s "Hoarders" if we don’t help him get a handle on it. If C’s GI Joes go AWOL, we know to search E’s room. If they’re found, we return the item/items to the rightful owner and tell E he is not to take things that don’t belong to him. A light slap on the wrist, sure, but we didn’t think it was all that serious—until now.

I wanted to have my friend’s husband come over with his police car and cuff him. Maybe that would scare the thieving right out of him. Scare him straight. But then I talked with Officer Melissa Doss of the St. Peters Police Department who had a really good point in that we don’t want our children to fear police officers. We need them to trust the police, so if they’re ever in trouble or hurt, they won’t be afraid to get help.

I called the counselor at E’s elementary school to see if she had some advice on how to approach the conversation with E. She was more than happy to help. For her, empathy seems to get the kids to really think about what they’ve done. Ask the child how they would feel if someone took something from them.

My Dad’s method is tried and true and it’s been used many times over and has a pretty effective success rate. After all, I have never and will never take anything that doesn’t belong to me again. Growing up, our neighbors had two little girls. They were a little younger than me, but they were fun to play with and easy to boss around.

One day we were playing with their little plastic Care Bear figures. The plan was, I would sneak one home to play with, and when I was done, I would run by and throw it into their front yard. No harm done.

But my Dad caught me with the cheap plastic bear up my shirt and marched my little fanny right back next door where I had to tell the neighbors what I’d done and apologize. It was humiliating and I was so ashamed of myself—my cheeks still get red just thinking about it.

MJ and I sat E down and spoke with him about stealing. We talked about how he would feel if something was taken from him, where a life of crime might lead him, and we had him write a note of apology to his classmate for what he had done.

I was feeling pretty good about how we handled the situation until a few days later. C came to me and said, “E has my airplane in his room and he won’t give it back.”

T-minus 2 years until military school.