Yeah! Yummy!

Last week I had to take Adlani to the dermatologist because of the reoccuring rash on his cheek that began last Halloween when his teacher stuck a sticker on his face at their classroom celebration. The appointment went fine - he was very well-behaved because he thought she was going to give him a shot. Since the appointment was mid-morning I decided to keep him home from school, and we stopped to do a few errands on the way. When we got home 3 errands later, he took off his coat and I heard him exclaim, "Yeah! Yummy!" When I investigated I found a plastic M&M full of M&M's that he had hidden in his sleeve! From his behavior I could tell that he had no idea that he had done anything wrong (Bad Mommy). Since he had made it out of the store he was home free.

Just that day I had witnessed the instant a mother realized that her son had made it out of Stop & Shop with a book. She scolded him and then let him take the book to the car! Since I had mentally berated that mother for allowing her son to keep the book, I had to pay the piper and march Adlani back to the store with his loot. I put it on the counter and explained that my son had taken it from the store without paying for it and the woman said to Adlani, "Oh that's ok honey. Thank you for returning it." I was giving her the hairy eyeball for being too nice and I whispered out of the corner of my mouth, "And don't do it again!" She repeated that to Adlani but it didn't sound nearly as scary as my version. Adlani was cool as a cucumber until I made him tell Ben what he had done. After about 5 minutes of trying to divert attention onto anything else, his poor, pitiful little face cracked and he started to cry. I cried too.

The whole episode brought back memories of my first brush with the law. It's actually one of my earliest memories. I was at the grocery store with my mother, my stepfather, and my brother Brady, and someone had spilled Slim Jims under the conveyor. I picked some up and stuck them in my pockets, and then kept my hands in my pockets to conceal them. In the car I can clearly remember my stepfather asking why I had my hands in my pockets, and when I took my hands out, my crime was revealed. My mother reported me to the manager, who gave me a lollipop and one for my brother too. I guess it doesn't matter that my confession was rewarded with kindness because I didn't steal anything again until at least Junior High. And I've never eaten a Slim Jim.
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