Trust

I had to make a last minute errand run for Shelby before she left for an overnight service project today, and while I was out I received several calls from home. They were the usual litany of calls: he's being jerky, don't forget to, hey mom can I, what was it you asked me to do again, etc . . . One of the calls was a request on behalf of Aidan and Keats, who both managed to earn privileges while I was away.

We have a board on our dining room/school room wall which is a combination of chores, responsibility reminders, and behavior guides. For every good act the kids are caught doing, they earn a touchdown (a bright green circle) to hang under their name. For every less-than-desirable act, they receive a penalty disc (a white circle with the universal "No" symbol.) Ten penalties, and you get to choose a chore out of the jar. This can be anything from cleaning the baseboards to sorting through the markers. Twenty touchdowns, however, scores you a privilege. These are serious treats which can be anything from a tattoo to choose favorite pizza toppings to a manicure to movie with dad.  Of course, in order for any good system to make a difference you have to make it happen pretty quick. So chores are usually done right away and privileges are redeemed as quickly as possible. Some are tough - like the moon walk Isabelle earned needs to have both a full moon AND a night daddy is home, so her privilege is still waiting. But others are able to be redeemed fairly quickly.

So anyway, Shelby was letting me know that Aidan had gained "Choose Favorite Snack" while Keats had gotten "Ice Cream Sundae." Would it be possible for me to add a stop to pick these up on my way home? Isabelle, Abigail, and I detoured to Giant in hopes of snagging both. Sure enough, we managed to find Aidan's favorite snack -- Natural Cheetos -- in the organics section and then we found individual Ben and Jerry's cartons over in the freezer section. One $1 carton of Strawberry Cheesecake later, we were at the register with both items.

We were in a hurry as we got to the car because we genuinely still had quite a bit to do this afternoon. (Obviously we're caught up or I wouldn't be sitting here writing.) As I went around the van to get in, sitting next to our behemoth vehicle was a ready-for-summer Jeep Wrangler. Now, we tend to notice Wranglers simply because they are Scott's goal car for once we are debt free. (Although, he is considering a Suburban-type so he can take all the boys and a big dog camping at once.) But this one in particular looked really nice. It was completely top free and it just screamed, anyone in me is heading for the adventure of their life.

Then I started to notice little things. Life the GPS on the dashboard. The docking station near the stereo.  The bag of gear casually flung in the back seat. The pair of brand new sneaks still in the box and bag sitting in the front seat. And this got me thinking.

If we really live in a society full of completely depraved and out-for-myself-only individuals, then this Jeep should already be stripped bare and the owner weeping into his hands. Don't you think? And no one would have witnessed anything because they would all be too focused on themselves. Of course, once someone did find out, the general attitude would be "Whatever, fool. You walked away with everything exposed like that. What did you expect?" And, when you get right down to it, then this guy should be sued for driving a beacon of temptation.

But here it was in all its glory. Trust. Trust that society would simply keep their hands to themselves while this individual ran some errands and then returned to a Jeep in the exact same state he left it. Trust that nothing would be lifted, stolen, or pinched. Trust that we as Americans are still a pretty great group of people.

As I backed out of my spot, I glanced again at the Jeep and grinned. I love being an American.