Have you ever had really, really good intentions but implementing them didn’t play out the way you envisioned? Perhaps the most embarrassing and entertaining instance of that happen to me came at Christmastime when I tried to teach my daughter, then a preschooler, about the importance of giving back and helping others.
I wanted her to focus on giving and know the joy that comes with doing so. I wanted to carry on a tradition that my dad had started as high school principal in Ohio. Around the holidays, he would mobilize the school to do all kinds of good work and fundraising for our local children’s hospital and the holiday assembly included a big presentation of the funds raised to a representative of the hospital. Good stuff, and now it was my turn.
I started by taking my child to Target and had her pick out some toys that we would donate to what is now the Lurie Children’s Hospital. She took a very, very long time deciding. Then she announced she wanted some toys, too, because this was some fun stuff. We discussed the meaning of “giving” in the midst of a busy Target.
She was skeptical, but seemed to get it eventually, though without the joy I had hoped for. Maybe it would come later, I thought.
Finally, we had several decent toys and I was thinking, “This is going well! She’s going to understand the importance of giving!”
I felt like I was carrying on a family tradition. I was teaching a valuable lesson that would hopefully last a lifetime.
On the way to the check out line, we passed the aisle with the wine. This was new to Target at the time, and pretty exciting.
I grabbed several bottles for hostess gifts and to have on hand for holiday giving. We continued to the check-out lane, me feeling like a do-gooder, a decent parent, and a multitasker.
Wahoo!
We drove to the hospital, where the parking situation was challenging. I knew that there was a nifty sleigh in the hospital lobby and that all we needed to do was to run in and drop our bag in the sleigh.
With my kid’s patience shot, I parked in perhaps the not most legal spot. (Fear not, my vehicle did not preclude any ambulance arrivals, I swear.)
Wanting my child to be the one to make the donation, I asked her to get the bag of toys. She was dawdling, because preschooler. I impatiently told her to shake a tail feather. She scurried and we were on our way, though she said the bag was heavy.
I thought she didn’t want to part with the toys, and asked her to think about how the sick kids would feel upon opening the toys she had selected.
We walked into the hospital, me holding my daughter’s one hand and her grasping the bag in the other. She deposited it on the sleigh filled with stuffed animals and all kinds of fun toys.
The staff kindly praised my daughter for her donation and her act of giving. She told them she really liked the items we had picked out and she hoped the sick kids would like them, too.
A few hours later, back at home, I went to wrap the bottles of wine. I cheerfully opened the red and white Target bag, and frozen in horror when I looked inside.
It was full of toys.
At my insistence, my daughter had carried a bag of wine bottles and left them in the sleigh as a donation at the children’ hospital.
So that’s why the bag seemed heavy it. It was heavy, and it was alcohol. I assume that I didn’t hear the clinking of bottles because she set it on a cushion of stuffed animals.
I was neither a decent parent nor a good multitasker. Actually, I was a multitasker. I managed to combine a parenting disaster and a giving FAIL with one fell swoop.
Not only that, I brought dishonor to the family. I’m pretty sure my father would also be a bit mortified by my mistake.
I was also not a do-gooder, although I really hope those bottles made their way to a nurses’ station or department holiday party.
So, here’s a friendly reminder to slow down, take your time, double check your bags, and when all else fails, laugh at yourself. Merry Christmas, friends, and cheers!
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