My daughter, the criminal...

Gigi got in the car yesterday from preschool and she was immediately squirming. 

ME:        Buckle up.

GIGI:     But, wait.  I need to tell you sumfin.

ME:        Buckle up, baby.

GIGI:     I need to tell you sumfin!!

ME:        Okay, tell me after you buckle up.  There are people waiting behind us.

GIGI:     No! It’s important...  I stealed a horse.

ME:        Huh?

GIGI:     I stealed a horse from the church. 

ME:        (sigh) Whyyyyyy?

GIGI:     I don’t know.  I didn’t mean to…  I DID mean to, but I’m sorry.  I will give it back.

ME:        Okay, leave it in your backpack and we’ll bring it back Thursday morning.

GIGI:     No, mommy!  I have to give it back RIGHT NOW.

So I pulled over out of the way of the other mothers, rolled down my window and hollered for one of the teachers.  I quickly returned the horse, apologized that my child is a thief, and drove away. 

As I drove down the road, I went from being mad and embarrassed to being proud of my little kleptomaniac.  She’s 4 years old.  I know it was wrong for her to take the horse, but the cool thing is - SHE knew it was wrong too.  That makes me happy.  And it makes me proud that she felt so guilty that she was confessing before we even got the car door shut. 

I’m pretty sure this was her first offense, and hopefully her last.  She does look cute in stripes, but I don’t want them to be part of her permanent wardrobe someday.