Do you ever look at your young child and think, ‘Oh dear God what have I reared?’. Maybe they have a crazy temper, or are so bossy even you can’t ignore it? Or maybe they are a thief? Yes, what if you discover your dear little one is light fingered.
Well today on my blog, in the hope that Tuesday is ‘not many reading day’, I will confess, that I Tric, was a thief in the past. I know I bet you can’t believe it, but I confess that when I was about eight years old I ‘stole’ an airfix model battleship!
I am perhaps being a bit too hard on myself. What I mean to say is that I acquired the toy by deception, but I did pay for it, almost.
It was a Friday night and my younger, much better behaved, brother and I were shopping with our parents. For some reason we were being treated and allowed to go to the toy shop with four pounds each to spend. That was quite a lot of money at the time.
It was a large toy shop to a child, but in reality had only two aisles. We wandered up and down for ages, virtually buying everything. Eventually for me it came down to two airfix models. There was one small plane for £2.99 or a fine size of a boat for £4.99. My brother strolled over and I showed him the beautiful boat. He looked at the price and matter of factly (for a seven year old) said it was too dear. He had already chosen his toy, perfectly priced. Squatting down I picked up the small airplane and carefully removed the price, and to my brothers horror, I placed it directly over the price tag on the large beautiful battle ship that I had decided was mine. ‘Now’, I declared, ‘I can buy it’. My poor little brother nearly had a heart attack there and then. Hissing at me, he told me I couldn’t do that, ‘It’s stealing’. ‘No it’s not, I replied, I’m paying for it’.
As he continued to protest I gave him the look. The big sister, I just might kill you if you say anything, look. He stopped speaking, but as we approached the til his little face began to redden. ‘What if they call the police?’, he said. Loosing patience I said ‘I will just say I’m sorry I thought that was the price’.
The two of us got to the til and queued up to pay. Little brother was a mess by now, sweating and almost crying. I was making sure I kept the pressure on with my,’don’t say a word’ looks so that he was more afraid of me than the shopkeeper. I remember reaching up and handing over the two toys and waiting while she calculated the price. There was a brief heart stopping moment when she looked a second time at my beautiful battle ship, but then she rang it up on the til, took our money and bagged up our toys.
I strolled, smiling triumphantly, out the door of the shop while my little brother ran out, I suspect in desperate need of the bathroom. I felt no pang of conscience when I showed my toy to my parents. Not a shred of guilt.
Remembering this story now, as an adult and a mother, I wonder what sort of a wild child was I? What was it made me care so little and my brother so much? As I look back tonight I am struck by the fact, that as I remember the robbery, I do so with all the feelings I had as a child.
And I still remember the joy of ‘buying’ my battleship.
photo credit: evilpeacock via photopin cc
21 thoughts on “A confession of sorts.”
As young children, we don’t always think of the consequences. We live in the here and now. It’s only later that we feel guilt for our actions, or even realize the fullness of our actions. I can imagine your brother’s terror, although looking back it’s probably a laughable memory for all.
I hope so, because I am a bit taken aback that I have no remorse, even though the person I am now is very different.
Well, there’s all kinds of lessons to get out of that. But with my head cold all I can do is gasp, chuckle and be glad you are who you are. 🙂
I was some scut I must say. Thankfully my gang seem to be more like their dad!
“Scut”???? Irish for…..?
And yay for good influences. 😉
Scut is an expression we use to describe a person, who is a rogue ( a likeable one) or a divil. It would be well known here.
Another one for your vocabulary. I write them not even realising they are not common to all.
I like the Irish education Tric. 🙂
well, don’t feel bad, you learned something from it, even if it took a couple or few years, and we’ve all done things that were less than stellar. hopefully we make more good choices than bad.
Yes hopefully I’ve learned a thing or two since then. 🙂
tsk, tsk 😉
never fear, tric – you are not alone in having a criminal past 😆
I’d never have guessed you would have a less then white past Duncan!
I suspect we would have quite a few confessions we could share over a whiskey and a few glasses of wine.
Occasionally I find things tucked into my daughter’s wheelchair especially if they’re pink and sparkly, but in all fairness, I don’t think she knows that it’s a crime!
I read your comment earlier and I have smiled on and off since thinking of the Smiley I see in your photos ‘losing’ pink and sparkly things in her wheelchair. Fab.
Ha ha, love the deviousness of it! I think the crime would be not have learned anything from it.
Remorse for a childhood act is not obligatory as we are no longer that person and the lessons we have learned since then do not apply.
Your poor brother!!!
Ah my brother learned a thing or two in life from me alright. 🙂
I am so glad I did not manage to produce a little one like myself. Maybe it will skip a generation.
Way to go, Tric. Even as a child, you were getting one over on the man.
Ha ha. That’s one way of looking at it.:)
If we are confessing about being thieves, then I will own up to my own. It was a contest, every time my mother took us with her to a store, to see who could come home with the best stuff, and as we rarely had any money to actually spend, we were all quite sticky-fingered – that is until I was caught at the age of 16! I was so embarrassed, I never stole another thing, up to this day, and I still rarely have any money to spend. 😛
Oh Karen. I can’t believe you made it to 16 without being caught. You must have been very good at it!
At least we have left our thieving days behind us.
I like the way you write. 🙂 I’ll bet you kept your mother on her toes.
Thanks April. My poor mother had a family of us, except my brother I suppose. No wonder they are still so close!