Little Jimmy Learns There Is Nothing Funny About Crime

Back in November we went to Disneyland for two days. If you spend any time with me at all, or read either of my blogs on even a most inconsistent basis, you know this already. Disneyland is one of my favorite topics. I enjoy telling Disneyland stories. I especially enjoy telling these stories to Kirsten, because she is very bored at hearing them (we both hate passing up opportunities to bother each other) so for me there is the principle enjoyment of talking about Disneyland, and then the added bonus of making her eyes roll. Win/win situation. (For her part, she likes to point out my obvious fashion issues--which are many--because, uh, I am not good at caring about fashion, apparently.) So here it is, another of my beloved Disneyland stories:


On the evening of our first day in the park, we are walking down Main Street on our way to the gate. The Everloves are with us, having joined us for a fun day of Disney Magic, Wonder, and Over-priced Food. The park is closing. We are all walking out as a group and our friend John notices that our boy Jon is very interested in looking at something in his pocket. John investigates and discovers that Jon has a small metal personalized key chain, similar to this one--only his didn't say Lorriane on it--in his pocket.



It wasn't paid for. John whips into one of the shops and gives it to a Disneyland employee and we continue our walk to the parking garage, with me ramping up for my "We Do Not Take Things We Haven't Paid For" harangue, otherwise known as the "Why On Earth Would You Steal Something??" lecture. I know that Jon is feeling a bit uncomfortable (as well he should) and so he is sort of hanging back from the group as we are walking to our cars. He is hanging back, and taking something out of his pocket. And intently looking at it. Sure enough, that little carpetbagger had ANOTHER key chain in his pocket. I begin to huff. I am embarrassed and angry. I am furious. And I am not about to walk all the way back to Disneyland (which is now closed) to hand over another unpaid-for trinket. I grab the key chain from Jon and inform him that tomorrow we would go back to the Critter Country shop from whence he had taken it and HE would return it. (All I can say is, thank goodness for that second day at the park, because honestly, I'm not sure I would have returned the thing. I would of course have told him I returned it, but you know me and bothersome tasks...)


So the next day at Disneyland, we go back to the shop and the nicest lady is working the register. A real grandmotherly type and I present our case in my best "We are here to teach this boy a lesson, Granny, so help me out here" voice. Jon produces the key chain and plunks it onto the counter. Granny quietly asks him, "Is your name "Jim?" --because you see, Jon had picked out a key chain that had "Jim" printed on it-- and Jon soberly replies, "No, my name is Jon", to which Granny bursts out in very jovial laughter, not at all calculated to make a young boy feel at all remorseful for his obvious sin, and says in her adorable Southern, grandmotherly drawl, "Well Honey, you didn't even get the right one!" Oh thank you, wise old Cash Register Woman, for your help in this serious matter. Now that we have all had a hearty chuckle, including the random people in line behind us, I'm sure he's learned a lesson here he won't soon forget.