Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Purse Strings

Our kindergartener came home from school this afternoon with a foreign object: a small black velour purse.

"What's that purse in your backpack?" I asked our daughter, who was busy making the non-alcoholic sangria I promised she could have since she lusted after the real kind I made for a shower on Sunday.

"Oh, that's a purse Mr. D found." Fork in hand, she mushed up the oranges in her cup.

"Who's Mr. D?"

"He's the man who cleans our school. He came in our class and asked if the purse belonged to any of us."

"And you said it was yours?"

She looked at me wide eyed and nodded.

"But, honey, that's not your purse."

"I thought it was." Her head down, she focused on furiously smashing fruit.

"Sweetie, did you really think it was your purse, or did you really want that purse?"

And then big tears welled up and overflowed onto her flushed cheeks.

So we had a little talk about lying, and returning that purse and, well, confessing to Mr. D or Ms. D, her teacher (no relation).

"But then Mr. D will know I LIED..." she wailed.

"I know, honey, but if you bring the purse back, Mr. D and Ms. D will understand that you want the owner of the purse to have it again, and that you're sorry. You learned something important, right? Everything will be okay, I promise."

But I could tell she was not convinced, and her wheels were turning.

Next I found her rummaging in her "office" for a piece of paper.

"What are you doing, sweetie?"

"I'm writing a letter to my teacher. I don't want to tell her I lied, so I will just give her a note." She began sounding out the letters.

A few minutes later, she presented her confession, written in black crayon on orange construction paper: "UM I THOT DAT PRS WUS MYN IM SRE MES D" [the rest of her teacher's name crawling up the side of the page].

She read aloud, "Umm...I thought that purse was mine. I'm sorry, Ms. D."

...maybe next time she semi-truthfully confesses her sins we will suggest that opening an admission with "ummm" slightly diminishes the strength of the message...

1 comment:

Kate said...

That story reminds me of a time I had to return some pilfered beads to Cora-Mart. :-)