30 Days of Truth, Day 2: Something You Love About Yourself
I think I was around seven.
That’s around when my mom’s office was just around the corner from a convenience store. Every day, my dad would pick my brother and me up from school and drive us over to hang out there in the afternoon. It was a way for my mom to feel close to us, I guess.
It sounds dismal, this idea of little kids hanging out in an office all afternoon, but if you put yourself in the shoes of a seven years old and remember how they feel about highlighters, blank paper and unlimited supplies of paper clips, you’ll understand that it wasn’t so bad. Also, it was across the street from the beach.
One of my favorite things, though, about going to mom’s office was that her nurses and secretaries would send me on store runs for soda or chips. Again, as an adult this would be annoying, but as a seven year old it made me feel like… a grown up. And for me, that was the entire purpose of childhood… to feel grown up.
One day, on one of those soda runs, I walked into the mini-mart and was surprised to see more people than I had ever seen in there. Twenty, maybe thirty?
One Diet Coke ah-ah-ah, two Sprites ah-ah-ah… and a pack of gum for myself ah-ah-ah... I was repeating the list in my head to the tune of the Sesame Street Count both in an effort to entertain myself and to avoid looking like a fool for coming back with two Sprites and one Diet Coke on accident.
When it was my turn, I gave the woman behind the register the petty cash money that had been entrusted to me to purchase said goods. She put my stuff in a plastic bag and handed me change while she was giving the man behind me directions on how to get to the Interstate. We were a long way from the Interstate, so she was plenty distracted.
Which is probably why, as I look back now, she handed me change for a twenty when she should have handed me change for a ten.
I didn’t realize this until I was pulling the money out of my pocket as I neared the front door of my mom’s office.
I had an extra ten dollars.
Remember, people, I was seven years old and it was 1982. That’s like finding a million dollars in your laundry.
My mind started reeling. First, it was filled with visions of all the things I could buy with ten bucks… clothes for my Barbies, Garbage Pail Kid’s Collector Cards, TWO copies of MAD magazine, A Dukes of Hazzard action figure (oh, please, spare me the act, you know you wanted one)… or candy. Lots and lots of candy that I could and would taunt my brother with until the end of time.
Ten dollars!!
But, then, I started thinking about how I’d have to go back to the store tomorrow, and that same lady would probably be there. I thought about how she was always really nice to me when I went in there. I thought about how keeping money that wasn’t mine was like stealing.
Furthermore, having watched my mom’s receptionist close out at the end of each business day, I knew that collected money was counted. Is there was money missing, then it was kind of a big deal. I thought of the nice lady behind the register trying to explain why ten dollars was missing to the person in charge.
So, I had to go back. I went inside and I gave mom’s staff their sodas and slipped back outside without mentioning the extra ten bucks in the back of my pocket. I’m not sure why I didn’t mention it.
Okay, I am sure. It was because I wasn’t totally sure I was going to give the money back at that point.
The whole way there, I thought about how stupid I was being. She’s the one who made a mistake when she counted the change. Why should I have to suffer? Besides, it’s not like she’ll know it was me that kept the money. I thought up ways to justify keeping that ten bucks… until I found myself standing in front of the cash register.
The crowd was gone, the store was empty, and the cashier who had given me the wrong change was now accompanied by a man behind the counter.
“Hey, brown eyes,” She always called me that.. because, well, I have brown eyes. “Weren’t you just in here?”
“Um, yeah,” I mumbled. I reached back into my pocket and felt for the crumpled up fortune. It was still there. And there was still time, too. I could act like I’d forgotten to buy a pack of gum…
“I, um, you gave me back too much money.” I handed her the ten.
She took it from me in a way that felt very … slow. And I’m pretty sure I remember that she never took her eyes away from mine. “I did, did I? You sure…”
“Yes. You should have given me a five and two ones, but you gave me a ten, a five and two ones…”
“Well… you’re lucky,” the man behind the counter said to her “There’s no way I’d a come back and given you that ten dollars back.”
“No,” she rolled her eyes, “I suppose you wouldn’t have.” She reached over the counter and grabbed three packs of Bubbalicious and handed them to me. “That’s for you, honey. Because good deeds should be rewarded.”
I was ecstatic. Obviously. Because if ten dollars is like a million to the seven year old brain, three free packs of Bubbalicious is like the Hope diamond.
“Thanks,” I said.
I didn’t know I was going to get a fortune for doing the right thing, but I had done it anyway. It was rewarding moment for me. Perhaps the most rewarding moment up until that point in my seven year old life.
I’m still that person.
I do the right thing even when nobody is looking, even if doing the “wrong” thing seems to have more immediate rewards.
I don’t do the right thing because I’m scared because let’s face it, I’m smart enough to figure out how not to get caught.
I’m also very thoughtful and conscientious about what I deem to be “right.”
I mention this above point in case one of my teachers from my senior year in high school is reading this and is wondering if I remember skipping 82 days that year and wouldn’t that be considered not doing the right thing. No, it wouldn’t, and I stand by those absences because I remain firm in my belief that my attendance that year was pointless.
So.
Anyway.
What do I love about myself?
My commitment to do the “right” thing whether or not Bubbalicious is involved. And, we all know it seldom is.
33 Responses to 30 Days of Truth, Day 2: Something You Love About Yourself
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I was shovelling snow off the walkway of the Meeting house when I saw something shiny in the snow. It’s was a gold necklace with a diamond in it. I put it into the lost & found box & 2 days later, a woman who attended asked if I had found “anything ” I told her about the necklace & she said her husband had just given it to her for their anniversary. She tried to give me money, but I told her to donate it to the meeting instead. That’s what it’s all about: doing the Right Thing even if no one is looking.
@yknot, Aww, that’s a really nice story. I love that you told her to donate the money.
Yep. I know this exactly – I tend to live that way, myself.
But I loooved grape Hubba Bubba.
@Sybil Law, Hubba Bubba is pretty awesome, too.
I have no problem profiting off of people’s stupidity, but otherwise, this seems like an admirable trait.
@Avitable, Sigh.
Bubbalicious is the ultimate bubble! I loved that stuff!
I’m not sure what I would have done at that age. It would have been a very big temptation, that’s for sure.
@Lisa, My daughter had some Bubbalicious the other day. It actually loses flavor in, like, a minute. LAME. I guess a minute doesn’t feel so short when you’re 5 or 6.
You mean “would pick my brother and me up.” Your Dad could not “would pick up my brother and I” – he “would pick up my brother and me up.” Take out the other person and see whether or not you say I or me, and that’s the correct one.
You wouldn’t say he “would pick I up” you’d say he “would pick me up.”
This right here is what I hate about myself, btw.
@RW, oh and, can I have another beer down here please?
@RW, I fixed it. Now nobody knows what you’re talking about and you look like a crazy person. As usual.
I love doing the right thing, too.
It makes me proud to be who I am.
@Alexandra, Exactly.
This is something I love about you, too. I never have to question your motives or intentions. I know you aren’t perfect, but it’s also comforting to know that more often than not you’re going to come down on the side of doing the right thing.
@Miss Britt, Thanks, that means a lot.
Oh, I so totally wanted a Dukes of Hazzard action figure! And a lunch box. And a General Lee. And…
BTW? You were an awesome kid and you are an awesome woman.
@Coal Miner’s Granddaughter, Love you, hon…. thank you .
This is wonderful, Faiqa. I’m also the same, because I’d want others to be the same, if say, I lost my wallet – I wish others would return it with all the money in it, you know? (Not that I ever have any money in my wallet, sigh.) Once I left a $20 bill on the ground in a parking lot because ‘what if?’ I couldn’t pick it up. It’s not mine, you know?
@Loukia, Yeah, I think a strong sense of empathy makes us do the right thing in the end, as well. Thinking about how others would feel is a great moral compass.
i have a similar memory from childhood. only i did the wrong thing. i stole necco wafers from the grocery store while my mom was paying for her groceries. well, more like my tiny hands picked up the roll and just walked out of the store with them. i didn’t even know what a necco wafer was, but they fit well in my hand. when we got to the car and mom asked me about them i didn’t have an answer. didn’t need one, mom sure as shit knew she didn’t pay for them and that i didn’t have any money in my four year old pockets so she loudly read me the riot act about taking things that don’t belong to us as she marched my sobbing butt back into the store. through tears i apologized and handed over the money mom shoved at me, returning to the car still crying, still holding the stupid necco wafers. she made me eat the whole roll. i threw up. and can’t stand licorice to this day.
sometimes doing the right or wrong thing doesn’t have rewards or consequences, but man o man, when they do they sure are memorable, huh?
(the way you are doing this 30 days thing makes me ridiculously happy. love these stories. you are such an incredible woman.)
@hello haha narf, Awww… the thought of little narf crying makes me feel very sad.
First of all, I am a firm believer in KARMA. I don’t know where I get it from or it could be a traumatic experience that I have erased from my mind…but I am scared to do the wrong, dis-honourable thing because I am geniunely, ridiculously ‘shit in my pants’ SCARED that if I do worng…KARMA will bite me in the ass….hard…double the wrong I did. I live in fear.
Second, any days skipped in highschool are well worth it! I had my days
Lastly, you are an AWESOME person to have done the right thing
I would too….or else I would have no ass! Hahaha!
@hpflo, I know a lot of people who ascribe to the same belief… I think it serves its purpose very well, and really, it’s an iteration to some extent of thinking of how your actions could affect another.
yes, you are absolutely still like that and it has cost us MILLIONS!!!
Seriously, I have not rubbed off at all on you, in the last 12 years. what is that about? I would have taken the $10, which adjusted for inflation means $21.94 in today’s money, and taken all my “poor” friends to the candy store. Kind of like in an Indian Robin Hood way…
@tariq, The truly scary thing here is how you make dishonesty seem like generosity…
“I don’t do the right thing because I’m scared because let’s face it, I’m smart enough to figure out how not to get caught.”
This is me exactly. I’ve given the $$ back after the cashier gave me change for a $50 instead of a $20, I’ve pointed out the lipstick that the cashier missed, and I told the tire person that they only charged me for two tires instead of four. I’ve never gotten anything more than a thank you for it, but that has been enough.
@Finn, Between you and me, I’m not very impressed with right action that is borne of fear. That sounds judgy, huh? I guess that’s because it is. Sue me.
This is one of the things that makes you lovely.
@Miss Grace, Awww xoxo, that was very nice.
I know I didn’t always do the right thing when I was a kid and I feel guilty about those days sometimes. As an adult I do try to do the right thing. I try to feel what the person who has lost the money or items would feel and I have to make sure those things that aren’t mine are returned. I admire you.
@Alan Labovitz, Oh, I’m sure I did plenty of things when I was a kid that weren’t the right thing… I just don’t remember them right away.
that was a great story! and heck yes i wanted the dukes of hazard car (ok, it was a big wheel) too! lol
@Liza, Oh, the Big Wheel was awesome. My parents got me the Barbie one. How sexist was that?