Bail Out

Last night at about 7:00 PM, Sweet Potato began to panic as he came to the realization that project materials were due today at school for a reading assignment.  He needed copies made of some research he down-loaded and also a tri-fold display.  If these items were not turned in on time, he would have to submit a written report.  With tear-filled eyes, red cheeks, and the weight of the world on his shoulders, he asked me for help.  Maybe "asked" is too passive of a word.  He sobbed and begged for me to go to the store for him.  He was also distressed because we don't have a printer at home, so how was he going to get the necessary pages together?

My gut reaction was to let him suffer the consequences.  Isn't that what good and responsible parents do?  Exactly how long did he know this assignment was due and why would he procrastinate?  Maybe a written report would teach him a lesson.  But then I began to get a little selfish.  WHO would have to help him with this report?  WHO would have to sit and listen to him fret and stress out?  Well, that would be me.  So here were my options.  Let him sit and stew over being irresponsible, or take about 40 minutes of my evening to drive to the store, pick up necessary supplies, and drive home and be done with the whole thing.  I chose the latter.  Once the kids were in bed, I headed out.

On the trip to the store, I thought about how my parents may have handled a similar situation.  I was a pretty responsible youth, but time management wasn't always my strength.  I pulled some late nighters and there were times I just met a deadline.  My mom and dad would remind me how much easier my life would be if I didn't wait until the last minute.  And had we 24 hour stores "back in the day" like we do now, there's a good chance my parents would have driven to the store to bail me out as well.  However, with that being said, I am certain they would not have done it with joyful hearts and smiles.  I'm pretty sure my dad would have cursed a little and then grumbled on the drive about the problems with school today.  When he was in school, they believed in oral reports.  None of this tri-fold nonsense.  My mom would have warned, "I will do it this once, but don't count on it again!"

Within 40 minutes, I was home once again.  Uncle saved the day by printing the pages at work that Sweet Potato needed.  Off to school this morning he went with a happy-go-lucky demeanor.  When I returned home after dropping the kids off at school, I saw Sweet Potato's snow pants hanging on the hook.  Sorry pal, I won't bail you out of this one.  You'll just have to stay in at recess today.  But hey, look on the bright side;  You can get a jump start on your project!

On the way home from school yesterday.  How could I not cut the kid some slack after this?