Ashton and the Car Keys

Being a parent is really really hard. It's my personal belief that a father has to involve himself as much as possible and follow up on everything. Now... Having said that... I can tell you I hate my daily, self-imposed 'To Do' list and have come to dread Saturdays. And my kids aren’t too thrilled about my ‘following up’ philosophies.

And sometimes.... Sometimes....

My oldest son Ashton is growing into a teenager. It’s tough having three kids, because you spend so much time multi-tasking their development you never really feel like you’re getting the one-on-one time you need and you’re always missing something.

So Ashton, being the oldest and most advanced developmentally, is the one that seems to be growing up fastest. He doesn’t need the kind of oversight that the other two need.

HOWEVER… however…

I’m fully aware that Ashton is head and shoulders over his peers according to his capabilities. He’s in honors classes, he reads voraciously and has since an early age, he’s the only kid in his age group who sought out a job last summer, he exercises regularly, and he is responsible for most of the household chores.

BUT…

A few months ago, I asked Ashton to load up the trunk of the Volvo with the recycling so I could take it to the recycling center after work. This is a task that he’s performed many times before. Every time something goes wrong with one of these chores, my first indication is the amount of time that goes by before he goes back to his iPad or the TV or whatever he would rather be doing. My second indication is the scurrying. I mean the silent walks through the hallways, always carefully planned out to avoid me and get to my wife. Lorie participates in the scurrying, silently walking down the hallway with whatever kid is in unacknowledged trouble to help them deal with whatever situation that no one wants me to know about.

See... the thing you don’t know is that I’m a horrible beast. Sigh

During this particular incident of scurrying, all involved were madly trying to find the car key to the Volvo. Which Ashton had lost. According to Ashton, he has a recycling-loading process. (Which is good!) The process involves putting the spare key to the Volvo on the bumper while loading the trunk. (This is dubious.) Never before has this resulted in the loss of the spare key. (This is a miracle.) But this time, the key was gone. (This was inevitable.)

Lorie and Ashton searched everywhere. The yard, the driveway, the trunk, the car, the house, they backtracked steps, they checked pants pockets, bathrooms, and even the mounted hooks where the key is normally kept. Nothing.

I’m taking a huge risk in telling you this. If you were to come to my house and search the yard, there’s a chance you could find the key to the Volvo and drive off with it. Please. Please come take my car. You could be EVEN MORE fashionable than I am while driving it.

It concerned me that Ashton’s main stake in this was whether or not he was going to get in trouble. Yes… I KNOW he’s only thirteen. I don’t accept that excuse and neither should you, knowing what we were capable of and what was expected of us decades past at age thirteen. He’s more than capable of securing the keys. I was disappointed in what I perceived as his lack of responsibility.

But this wasn't his concern at all. I was being a pessimist. He was feeling the weight of responsibility in losing the car keys. And he wasn't happy with himself. He proved this the very next day.

Ashton went across the street for his lawn mowing job on my neighbor’s lawn. It’s something that has been quite lucrative for him this last summer. It’s also, lest I should forget, his idea. I didn’t push him to get out and make money this summer. He’s doing it of his own accord. He’s enjoyed it, and he’s certainly enjoyed padding out his bank account.

I became aware of the scurrying while I was sitting on the couch in the living room working on the budget. I’m not a fan of being distracted from the budget, so I didn’t try to butt in. But obviously something was up. Ashton was making multiple trips from our house to the neighbors house and back again. Lorie was involved. Lorie was handling whatever it was. I stayed back.

The scurrying ended after awhile and Ashton settled in and went about taking a shower and cleaning up for dinner. When he was out of earshot, I hunted down Lorie and got the scoop.

"What's up?" I cornered Lorie in the kitchen. She turned to face me and leaned against the counter.

"Ashton lost the money Joe gave him. Including a ten dollar tip." Lorie sighed.

I stood there stunned. It had been ONE DAY since the dreaded Volvo car key incident.

"He's searched everywhere." Lorie continued. "Joe gave him the money, Ashton says he stuffed it in his pocket, and then it was just gone."

"Wow." I sighed.

"But here's the thing," Lorie said. "Ashton won't let me help him look for it. He thinks that Joe will see me, figure out what happened, and try to pay him again. He doesn't want that to happen because he says it's not fair to Joe."

This news was like a blow to my head. I thought for sure that Ashton would be bemoaning the loss of money or the fact that he had done all that work for free. I was half expecting Ashton to ask us to 'fix' it in some way. But no, I underestimated him yet again. He IS responsible, he HAS been learning these lessons. And this was a glimpse of the mindset that he's started to build for himself.

A week later, Joe knocked on our door. He had found a twenty dollar bill stuck against the fence and was more than a little confused. Lorie explained what happened and how Ashton handled it. Joe walked off chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

Thanks,
DCD