Posted on 07/09/2016 9:08:41 PM PDT by MFOSGO
My daughter was a thief. And what she stole was cold, hard cash.
It began with money from a parent’s wallet. Then, from another parent’s wallet. It moved on to a twenty from her big brother’s desk drawer. And then singles from the babysitter’s purse.
This happened a dozen times over. It was a pattern. It was serious, not incidental or of opportunity.
The piece de resistance was pinching thirty dollars from a school mate’s back pack – she got wind that the wad was in there for a donation.
Oh, and my daughter is seven.
I freaked out. Explained to her that if she kept up like this she would never be trusted by anyone and one day these actions might land her jail. I was cold, hard and blunt in the details.
But shockingly, she was not deterred. It happened again.
So, we took her to the police station.
We called our neighborhood precinct. Told them what had been happening and asked if we could bring her in for a talking to, as we were at a loss.
They said yes, sure.
My husband brought her in. She was hysterical. Hyperventilating, crying. She kept asking if she could say goodbye to assorted people and if she was going to die in jail.
It was heartbreaking. But the stealing had to stop.
He drove her there. And marched her inside the station as she mumbled, bracing herself, “I’m gonna be brave!”
The sergeant came over to wide-glassy-eyed-catatonic her. He gave her a pencil. And kindly and patiently explained the difference between giving and taking.
Then, as if I had paid him to be there, a half-drunk derelict in handcuffs reeled around the lobby squaring off at little her, “don’t ever go to jail! It sucks!
The sergeant took her back to the holding cell and showed her the ominous, metal bars and lock up.
Quietly and intensely he told my daughter that he knew she was a good girl and that she didn’t want to end up in there. He was sure she was never going to steal again!
She gave him a cracked half-smile. Tears spilled down her cheeks. He patted her on the head.
She came home and passed out.
That cop, with his busy station and important real-life business, took the time to help us solve a big problem. He was kind and generous. He could have easily told us to deal with it ourselves and not waste his time.
I think of this today as officers around this country are getting a completely false and bad wrap.
The real statistics:
Of the 990 arrest-related deaths in 2015, 38 were black and unarmed.
Thus far in 2016 of the 505 shot dead during arrests, 37 people were unarmed. 13 of them were black.
We sent 6 pizzas to that police station yesterday. And called them to voice our support. They were overtly grateful.
At a recent neighborhood festival, my daughter recognized one of the officers from the station. “That policeman was there when I was arrested” she said.
Good thing she got off that time. Because she never stole again.
The moral of this story...
The pantsuit has been caught repeatedly; if someone would just show her some *tough love* and take her down to the federal prison, explain the law, see the crowded prison cells, she’ll realize what she has done was wrong. And never steal again.
[Fiction writing is my new calling] ;)
I’m surprised Child Protective Services didn’t show up at your door protesting about child abuse. (j/k)
Glad to hear you had a great experience with the police and that the meeting was effective and your daughter was cured of her thieving.
What a great story and end result!
Welcome to FR!
Sounds like Hillary Clinton.
You just told the world your daughter was a thief. This will be on the internet forever.
No wonder you have to converse with yourself,a guy that calls a cop on his wife to clean house. Or maybe she likes a man in uniform.
She was seven, not seventeen. Some kids are biter, pinchers, name callers, bullies etc. Most outgrow it and the good ones will use it as a teaching moment for their children.
And took a 7 year old to the police station. I can’t post what I want about this. Just gonna not say anything else.
‘Nip it in the bud.’. My kid stole something from the class ‘treasure box’ and I called him on it when finding the loot. Marched him up to the teacher to return and made him apologize. He was in 3rd grade. Never did it again.
Now I’m crying from your story. I have been crying a lot today (see thread on sick kitty). But in a good way for your story. What a beautiful thing you did. That is how you learn to be a good moral person.
When I was about your daughter’s age, my parents were very interested in American Indian art. We used to be shlepped around to galleries and stores and whatever, and for us kids it was soooooooo boooooooooring. One time I was just hanging out by an Indian mannequin for what seemed like hours. He was wearing a soft suede outfit with gorgeous beaded patches on it. I played with one of the intricate beaded patches and found it was peeling off one side. They were glued on. I kept playing and playing with it and eventually it came off in my hand. No one was looking so I took it home.
That night I told my parents I made it with my bead kit. They raised eyebrows and asked if I really had. I swore I did. I think a few nights later my guilt wore me down and I raced into their bedroom in the middle,of the night, yelling that I had stolen it. And I too had the kind of dad who marched me back into the store and return it and apologize. Ending my criminal ways as well.
Not under his name. No one will know, and the girl is 7. Please.
Yeah, she was 7. And the parents took her to a police station to deal with the problem a parent should deal with.
The good ones don’t take their kids to the police station when they’re 7 freakin’ years old!
I didn’t know this was your first post! Welcome! Hope we were gentle!
Did you take him to the police station?
Hopefully, we’ve all made our kids return things they’ve stolen but hopefully we don’t drag them to a police station, using it as a parenting tool, when they are 7 years old.
For a young girl with a filching habit, having an Officer Friendly speak to her about it wouldn’t exactly be the worst. And who’s going to trace it through a parent with an anonymous screen name? (”Oh mommy, don’t tell the world who you are” — well, don’t.)
You can't be sure. Besides, it's just not the kind of thing I would say to strangers about one of my family members.
For one episode of stealing with lesson learned (oh! that person won’t like it after all! no more of this), that sounds inappropriate. For a chain of such events, maybe different story.
I don’t care how anonymous it is. The kid is 7. The parents took her to a police station to handle an issue most if not all parents have had to deal with and posts it proudly online, forever.
I feel sorry for the little 7 year old.
If you read the whole post, it sounded like his daughter was developing a serious case of kleptomania—a lot more serious than a one time theft of a candy bar or something.
My son, too, stole a couple of things. The first time, I marched him back to the store and made sure he saw me giving it back and explaining what had happened (he was not talking at the time yet). The second time, he stole from the store where I worked, and his dad brought him in to return the item.
If it takes a trip to the police station to cure the kid of stealing, then that’s what it takes.
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