MY DAUGHTER THE CLEPTO

Sadly, this post has been writing itself for several weeks now.  Elle (of course it's Elle) is a thief. This lovely ring was the latest of a string of discoveries.  She sees something she likes... and slips it in her pocket.  Aunt Carol tried to give her the benefit of the doubt- "Maybe she just thought someone didn't want it, and left it at the pool."  Yeah.  Not so much.  I saw this the same way I saw all the other stolen goods.  She holds it tight in her hot little hand, and then she reaches for something, and drops it.  She then quickly plops her hand back on top of it, hoping that I didn't see it.  I saw it Elle!

I have tried everything to get her to stop.  We had the- How would you feel if someone took something of yours without asking talk.  And the- Screaming and yelling like a lunatic mom, approach.  We also had the- I'm so sad that you would do something like that tactic.  And my personal fave the- WWJD (what would Jesus do) religious speech.  Truth be told, I think it might possibly be in her genetic make up.  I too was a thief at an early age.  One of my earliest childhood memories is of the gum I REALLY wanted at the gas station.  I remember my mom said no- so I stuck it under my armpit, inside my coat.  It was a light blue coat with some sort of bird on it.  It didn't have pockets, so when my mom lifted me out of the car... out rolled the gum in the egg shaped plastic container.  She put me back in the car and drove me back to the gas station.  A police man happened to be there- and she had him put me in the back of the car. This is where the memory gets a little hazy.  I remember WANTING the gum- TAKING the gum- and GETTING CAUGHT, vividly.  The police car?  Not so much.  So in an effort to make Elle's punishment more memorable than her crime, (I must have been pretty hardcore to not remember being locked in a police car) I am initiating a SCARED STRAIGHT program.  (the annoyed mommy version) Me and Elle are going on a little field trip... to the women's prison. It just so happens that my cousin is the warden at the prison here in good ol' Pocatello.  As soon as he gets back into town, I'm calling him!  (Can you do that?  A field trip to a prison?  I don't care if it's weird- I'm asking him)  You think that sounds harsh?  Go back to the beginning of my blog, and you can read all about Elle.  Drastic times call for drastic measures.  I'm gonna have to start frisking her before we leave peoples houses.  Either that, or I'll have to make them sign a waiver stating that they are fully aware of Elle's little problem.  I'd rather she just didn't take stuff that doesn't belong to her!