Childhood. . .

So, our oldest boy (all of eight years old) was caught stealing penny candy from the local store yesterday.

Punishment, of course, fell like rain. Since looking into kids’ motivation is often like looking into an empty room, we’re not sure why this happened. I don’t think we’ve overreacted or underreacted; he knows he’s in trouble. We’ve banned him from the store for a while, and he’ll go with me Saturday to plant trees and flowers for the city as part of the punishment.

It’s part of raising kids, I suppose. A frustrating part, especially dealing with a subtly impulsive kid like our oldest. Fortunately, he’s still at the age when he takes correction seriously, if not exactly well.

I can’t wash this away saying “every kid does this.” Because every kid doesn’t do this. I didn’t do this. At least I don’t remember doing this. I remember being short of money at the local store and the cashier pulling change out of his own pockets, but I never remember walking out with something that hadn’t been paid for in some way or another. And washing it off like that sends clear signals to a kid like ours that it’s okay what he’s done. It most certainly is not.

I suppose, in a way, that it’s a sign we’re entering another phase of child-raising. The stage where they’ll do practically any fool thing Mom and Dad tell them to do is fading, and with the youngest, it fades faster because he sees older brother and sister pushing back. I’m just not sure I’m ready to deal with an eight-year-old teenager.

Part of it, I think, is cabin fever. We’re all going buggy because the weather’s been so cold. That pent-up energy has to go somewhere. I just wish it wouldn’t go into the penny-candy jars at the local store.