Mother of the Thief

"I won't lie to you," Delia said to me over the phone last night. "When Robert came home he gave me a bag of candy and I asked him where he got it but he said at school." The M&Ms are personalized, and say Richard & Steve Love Their Moms on them. "I thought it was weird so I didn't touch them. I still have it here at my house."

Oh yeah, I spoke with the thief's mother.

Delia was not an easy woman to reach. When Steve came home and stopped by the babysitter's house to get her number, they said Delia would be by later and we could talk to her in person. I thought this was odd. We were supposed to get her number last week. Turns out, Delia told them not to give it to us. She wanted them to give her our number and she promised she would call us.

I found this out from the daughter of the babysitter. "I got so pissed at Delia that I called her on Friday and yelled at her," Daughterla said. "She told me it was none of my business and I told her she should be ashamed of herself." But as Daughterla spoke to us I saw Rosemary-- her mother/the babysitter-- peaking out the window, extremely nervous.

It dawned on me that Delia had basically bullied Rosemary into keeping quiet. Rosemary needs the money she gets from babysitting Robert's little brother, and she was worried she'd lose that business; Delia was also supposed to pay her the babysitting money that day and hadn't come out because of the candy issue. Rosemary's daughter, however, was on our side.

"When you see her, you'll understand," said Rosemary's daughter. "You'll see what type of person she is."

Rosemary's daughter (I'll resist the temptation to say "baby"), then called Delia, handed me the phone so I could speak with her, and I secretly snagged Delia's number in the process. Immediately the BS flowed; fortunately, I didn't lose it.

-"I'm so glad we could finally talk so these other people aren't involved." Wonderful.
-"Now what do you think happened?" I explained.
-"This is getting blown so out of proportion. You know, Robert wasn't the only one involved." Perhaps not, but he's the only person all the neighborhood kids named as the guilty party, and he's the only one his own little brother named.
-"But there's no proof..." Well, I don't know why everyone, including Rosemary, would lie. And we do have the box as evidence. I could give it to the police if you'd like them to fingerprint it. (Um, yeah, that was my telenovela dialogue speaking but I figured I could go with it.)
-"That won't do anything because I saw Rosemary touch it all over." Which means, I thought, you were here and saw the box and didn't come by or leave us a note. But instead, I said, I assume the police will know the difference between an adult woman's prints and a young boy's, and I seriously doubt they'll think the 50-year-old babysitter stole a box of M&Ms.
-"I'm not saying she stole it. But they're calling me and telling me I have to pay you $50."

Now it gets tricky. Rosemary's daughters did call and tell Delia that she had to pay us back, and that the gift cost $50; I did verify with Delia that I had the receipt if she'd like to see it. But I could also tell that this was the sticking factor, and she most likely didn't have an extra $50 lying around.

I explained that when everything went down last week this was one option we'd considered but after having spoken with the LAPD and thought about it at length, we had decided on a new course of action. Using Mary's advice from the last blog, I explained that paying the money wouldn't teach Robert a lesson; he had committed a Federal Offense after all and needs to learn that this isn't a joke.

"Oh, I told him. He knows." Yes, I'm sure you did.

I needed two letters-- in his own handwriting-- one addressed to Steve's mom and one to mine explaining what he did and apologizing. This involved much confusion over two letters, two mothers, two men living in one house... I explained Steve was my partner and I still don't think she understood. Anyway, I said Robert needs to give us those letters and apologize to us as well. We set up that this will happen on Wednesday.

On a side note, we had considered him doing chores in the neighborhood but I knew this woman wouldn't do it. She had been ready for a fight at every turn, incredibly defensive, and it was only through my keeping things on topic that the conversation didn't devolve into that.

Then Delia said, "So you'll stop talking about this with the neighbors?"

I neglected to mention the blog. But I did say that when we got those letters and a face to face apology from her son, then the issue would be closed. Until we got those letters, no, I would not be silent about anything.

"I don't know why it has to be like this," she said. Because I have no idea this will actually happen. And when we spoke to the police...

"Are you threatening me? I can get a lawyer if I have to." No, I'm not threatening you. I'm just telling you what will happen if you don't want to make your son be responsible for his actions.
I'm kind of surprised I was that firm but calm throughout the whole thing. But it does remind me of an old philosophy of mine...
Children shouldn't be spanked; it's their parents that need a good beating.