Transgressions

Allison and I were playing on the ground with some little sofa throw pillows nearby.

“Look!” she said.  “This pillow is getting kind of old.”

She pointed out a small hole in the pillowcase.  A small, neatly cut hole with clearly defined edges.

“Allison…  did you cut this hole with your scissors?”

She looked at me with pure guilt writ large across her face.  She didn’t say anything, but her wheels were spinning furiously.

“Allison, it’s important that you tell me the truth.  Did you cut these holes?”

Almost inaudibly, she admitted she did.

At that moment, I didn’t really know what to do.  If I got pissed for her cutting the pillow, I’d fear that she’ll learn that lying is a viable strategy for getting away with stuff.  But I also don’t want her to go around cutting up everything without any ramification.

In the end, I thanked her for her honesty, and I told her that those pillows belonged to me, and I didn’t want her to do that again.  Who knows if that was the right response.

But what I do know is that in the long run, I care much more about her trusting me than I care about the pillows.