Honesty is the best policy in our house. Or so we thought until a few days ago when my husband discovered that someone had rifled through his wallet and taken a wad of cash. No one seemed to know the whereabouts of the money when asked, but a quick search of the house revealed that my six year old son was the perpetrator. The bills were lying out in the open on his dresser. He was busted.
My husband was furious. A barrage of heated questions followed: How could you take money from me? Was anyone with you when you took it? Why did you do it?
Instead of answering, my son just sobbed. He couldn’t look my husband in the eyes. He was promptly sent to his room for the night and grounded from seeing his friends.
After putting my daughters to bed, I went into say good night to him. “Mom, I’m really sorry,” he said, still sniffling. I told him that rather than apologize to me, he should apologize to his father. To this he responded, “I’m really sorry I can’t buy you a nice birthday present.” He had taken the money to buy me a gift. When I heard this, I felt awful.
The next morning, at breakfast, my husband pulled my son aside and told him that if he ever needed money for something, like buying a gift, all he had to do was ask and he’d help him out.
I, in turn, decided to take my son on a stroll down memory lane. I pulled a few of the gifts he’d made for me over the years out of my closet and explained to him that these were some of the nicest gifts I’ve ever received. There’s a jewelry box that he made out of shoe boxes (it even has a hinged lid), dresses that he sketched for me, bead bracelets, a painting he made with his feet, a festive flower pot, and more.
That night as I celebrated my birthday with the kids, he gave me a home-made card. Inside he’d written, “No matter what, I will always love my mom.” This meant more to me than anything he possibly could have purchased with a wad of cash from his father’s wallet.
My son's gifts to me last year
Much better than 1-800-Flowers
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