A KK Moment

By Snickers

Below: A small expository piece I wrote (a rough draft I think) for a writing class in college. I think the idea was to share a lesson learned from childhood with the class. I found this piece (copyright 1995 – kidding about the copyright of course) while cleaning. I am not saying it is accurate, but it is how I remember the lesson. I just did a simple copy and paste to Balices Pieces. Unconventional often, but KK had a way to get a point across - sometimes without even knowing what she was doing I bet. Her mothering skills have been underrated I am afraid. My guess is that my mom forgot all about this incident in 1983 or 1884. I think she had a lot on her plate back then…


Learning a lesson as a child

When I was 7 or 8, I asked my mom if I could get a sucker while were in the checkout line at Fred’s Food Centre. She said no. Hearing her say no in the casual stern way I had become accustomed to meant little to me. I wanted a sucker. It was one of those grape flavored whistle suckers. The kind that turns your tongue purple.

I grabbed one from the shelf when no one was looking.

On our way out of the store, I proudly displayed my 10-cent treasure to my mom and showed her that I managed to steal the tasty treat without the cashier noticing. My pride, trumped by my stupidity, could be seen by the smile on my dirty face. My mother seemed appalled by my lack of decency as a young boy and she let me have it. She tried to convince me how wrong it was to steal, but to no avail. I was proud I had tricked everyone and happy I had a sucker to show for my sneakiness. I am sure I tried to act serious, but as a boy my sneaky little grin always escaped.

Then it happened.

My mother told me I had to give the sucker back. While disappointed, I am sure I must have thought it was not a big deal. I would just put it back in the box and move on.

Nope.

Not with my mom.

She marched me through the automatic doors dragging me by my arm (it seems like I was dragged by my arm a lot growing up) and she took me right to the owner’s small office. She explained to me in front of Fred himself how our families were connected and how my grandpa was friends with him. Then she went into this whole thing about neighbors and doing the right thing. They put a guilt trip on me.

Then she made me apologize and return the sucker. Fred explained how disappointed he was that a friend would steal from him. I didn’t even know he was my friend, but it added to the remorse they clearly wanted me to feel. As I was snibbling, my mom insisted that I help bag groceries to help earn some trust back. I thought it was an okay idea. So that day for what seemed like hours, I bagged groceries for the next few customers. After probably 10-15 minutes, it was time to go. Before I left, Mr. Thwaites thanked me for owning up to my mistake. I was still mad at him though.

I learned that just doing something nice does not make up for doing something wrong. And I learned that how I felt inside was punishment enough for my mistake. Helping and asking forgiveness was the right thing to do because it was the right thing to do. Not because my mom told me to do it.