I needed something at the grocery a block away. Ricki often goes there. The only downside is that she often adds purchases for herself to the bill. But I was desparate, so I sent her, allowing her to purchase a small bag of chocolate milk for school, but with dire warning to make no other extraneous purchases.
She returned home beaming/ranting (simultaneously affecting both moods, as hard as that is to imagine). She proudly stated that she had not taken anything from the grocery besides the allowed items, yet she was at the same time muttering about some “Levi kid” who took her toffees.
“WHAT toffees?” I quizzed. “So you bought toffees in the store!”
No, she protested, she had not. But the Levi kid took her toffees. HER toffees.
I tried to ascertain from where she had obtained toffees, but to little avail. And her bus was due momentarily, so we went down the stairs together. Upon reaching the bottom floor, I noticed the “Welcome Home” sign made of toffees pasted to the Levi family’s door, missing the last letter.
Mystery solved. (Except for understanding how in the world she was able to convince herself that they were HER toffees….)