Rachel is doing a book project, and for her big presentation next week she will be making a diorama with pyramids, sand, etc. (We went shopping at Michael's for supplies on Tuesday, and she kept saying over and over, "I love going shopping with you, Mom." When we were planning the shopping trip, I asked her why she wanted me to pick her up early to do so and she said, "First, so I can can spend quality time with you." Had to wince at that one.)
One of the things I let her buy was a plastic treasure chest, which really doesn't fit into the theme, but I persuaded myself it did because, what the heck. She was enchanted with it and carried it everywhere, including to school (which I would have vetoed).
On Wednesday, when I called from work, she got on the phone and I could hear the trepidation in her voice. Turns out that she left the treasure test in the library during class one day, and Tasia (a former kindergarten and first-grade classmate), allegedly pocketed it (she was supposed to have brought it to the school's lost and found).
So, on her own, Rachel worked out an arrangement for getting the treasure chest back. She told Libby, who shares a bus with Tasia, and Libby was going to tell Tasia that the chest she took had been Rachel's. And if that didn't work, Rachel said earnestly, "I'll pay for a new one."
When I told her that would be fine, she sounded relieved. "Did you think I'd be mad?" I asked her.
"I thought you would scream at me," she replied.
Still processing that fear of hers, but I was impressed by her take-charge attitude. As it turns out, someone else saw the treasure chest, realized it was Rachel's and put it back in her desk.
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