All the Marbles

This past weekend we went to a friend's party in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. We took the whole tribe down to the city and stayed with Kerrie's cousin, Chris, who has a house downtown. Chris and Mark were wonderful hosts and provided 5-star accommodations.

On Sunday, we took the kids to the National Air & Space museum for the experience of pressure, attitude, drag, and stalling. We also learned about the elements of flight dynamics.

Eventually, we made it to the dreaded gift shop for 30 minutes of shopping, where they have to spend their own money if they want to buy something. (That's how we successfully avoid them begging us to buy them something.) While in the gift shop, there was a giant trough of marbles (because they have everything to do with our scientific and technological air and space breakthroughs). At $6 a bag, Lev had filled up two bags, contemplated the $12 total, then frustratingly gave up because he didn't like the value. I suggested he try to jam more into a single bag, which he did, but then abandoned the idea altogether. Eventually, they settled on some wonderful mementos of their educational visit. Molloy opted for a small model airplane, Daniel bought a giant pencil, and Lev bought the ever useful and appropriate whoopee cushion. Actually, he bought three of them. (Why is it the 4-year old that is the better shopper?)

A few days later, Kerrie called me at work to let me know she found 6 marbles in Lev's pocket while doing the laundry. A parenting challenge if ever I saw one!

We didn't want to tell him we found them in his pockets because we would only end up teaching him to be more cautious about where he put his contraband, and we want him to be stupid when it comes to contraband. And being...well...me, I needed a more creative plan. Said differently, something I could blog about. After a lengthy discussion, Kerrie and I came up with a plan that would give Lev the opportunity to fess up on his own, rather than us putting him under a bright light and forcing a signed confession. (Waterboarding was considered, but eliminated as being too messy.)

Once we had the plan, we spent a great amount of time trying to come up with the most appropriate penalty. Something that was fair and loving, yet firm.

That evening at dinner, the phone rang (interestingly, my cell phone number was on the caller ID), which I was sure to answer in front of our dining children. The one-way conversation went something like this:

"Yes, this is Mr. Rubin...I see, uh-huh."
Then as an aside to Kerrie, so the boys could overhear, "It's the Air and Space Museum."
"What do they want?"
"Something about marbles. Six of them."

Back to the phone:

"Yes, we were at the museum this weekend...yes, I have three kids...yes, Lev and I were looking at the marbles...Some are missing, you say? Well, I don't know who could have taken them, but let me take your number and I can try to find out, then get back to you...thank you."

All eyes turned to Lev.

To my surprise, Lev quickly asked if it was about the 6 marbles in his pocket. "What marbles?" I asked. Well, it turns out that Chris had a decorative jar in his kitchen that was filled with marbles and he let Lev take some. And I know this is true because I was there when he gave permission; I simply forgot.

It was all Kerrie and I could do to keep from expressing our great relief; not so much that our child did not steal them, but that we did not overreact by posing threatening questions to him, accusing him of lying, and forcing a confession.

We spent so much time developing a penalty that it never occurred to us he had not stolen them. We were so glad we let it take a more natural course rather than try to force and coerce the outcome. Lev will never know (unless he reads this someday) the near miss of bad parenting he was almost subjected to.

My next phone call was back to the imaginary Museum caller so Lev could overhear our conversation; that we were sorry we would be unable to assist him in finding his marbles.