Punishment and Perspective

My big kids think I've gone soft.  Appalled by my reaction, or lack there-of to 8-year-old Griffin's $170 of fraudulent X-Box purchases.

It's mid-day on a typical Sunday.  The flares go up that there is trouble brewing and the family gathers in the living room.  Either out of morbid curiosity or in an effort to protect the young perpetrator, the big kids settle in for the show.

You see, each one of my children have committed this particular crime.  I remember Riley's turn like it was yesterday.
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Standing at the counter in Boscov's, in a section of the store unfamiliar to me until this day.  I'm purchasing a suit for an 8 year old Riley.  A Riley who is a recipient of a Citizenship Award.  An award given at a gala.  A gala that would require him to wear a suit.  A suit whose purchase brought us to Boscov's that day.

I hesitantly hand over my credit card as the total appears on the register.  I'm looking at $150 before shoes...I take a deep breath and smile a proudly.  "He's worth it, right?" I joke to the cashier who seems uninterested in what brings us together today.

She swipes the card and the system beeps angrily.  Declined.  I am startled but not yet alarmed.

Can you try it again? I ask.  Declined.

I shake my head in disbelief and a flush creeps up my neck. Two patrons shift uncomfortably behind me in line. Fear grips me as I know there is a possibility that the account is empty, I fumble for my next move. 

The cashier asks awkwardly, "Do you have another card to try?"

No...I don't have another card to "try." 

I step aside and call the number on the back of my debit card hoping that somehow the automated system might know more.  I am thrilled when I reach an actual person but my excitement quickly fades when the voice on the other end regrets to inform me that there is no money in the account.

It seems charges have been made - charges that total $335.00.  Charges for a game called, "Real Steel."

Until this moment I had forgotten that Riley was by my side.  Watching my every move.  Eight year old Riley.  Award winning Riley.

"What did you say the game was called?" I ask the woman on the phone.  Riley's eyes meet mine.  In that moment I know he made the charges.  He bursts into tears.

I thank the cashier and apologize for wasting her time.  She laughs nervously and makes a joke about how busy Boscov's is on a Tuesday night. She is kind and I am grateful.

I turn on my heel and march out of the store, empty handed.  Riley trails behind.  I get in the car and buckle myself.  I say nothing.

The car ride home is steely silent,  punctuated with sudden bouts of expletive laced tirades about what he had done.  My scheming, thieving, deceiving 8-year-old son.

Punished for a month.  NO video games for a year.  NO fun - EVER.  AGAIN.
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15 year-old Riley presents this story to Griffin like a badge of honor.  Having been the first to survive the wrath of mom.  One by one, each child recounts the tale of how they angered the beast by lying or deceiving.  Different stories but the same ending.  A very scary Mommy.

It is at this point that my husband moves forward, steady and stern.  I take my cue from his calm and stay balanced.  There is no screaming.  Hardly any tears. 

Punishment is handed down.  The trial has ended.  Griffin is free to go.

Ultimately disappointed by the conclusion,  the big kids continue to discuss among themselves.

"That's it?" They complain, "I don't think he appreciates the seriousness of his offense."

They mock the mother I've become.  Where is the fury?  Where is the fire?

Griffin stares stone faced at the panel who sit in judgement.

He doesn't know the lady of which they speak.  He knows a much more mellow mom.  He has not yet felt the heat of her anger.  Anger that was driven by fear. 

Back in those days it was possible to upset the apple cart over the price of a children's suit.  Trying so hard to keep up with the Jones's and failing at every turn.  We lived far beyond our means in our big, beautiful house with less than $100 in the bank at any given moment.

This trip down memory lane lends me perspective on how far we have come. These days are different.  More stable, more secure.

Griffin's mom is surely more balanced, capable of taking it all in stride.  Confident in the knowledge that we now live within our means and that is money in the bank.