The Pillaged Goods

Lately Ricki has taken to walking to school on her own (rather than waiting for her ride). An occasional walk to school I feel is safe; consistently doing so could lead to her easily being targeted, and I want to prevent this. So today as she left the house, I warned her to “wait for Rafi” (her driver).
After a few minutes, I glanced out the window to check that she was indeed on the corner. She was- wearing my relatively new skirt. Besides being upset at the very idea of her heisting my clothing, I was positive that if she wore it to school it would be returned in shreds. It is a skirt of (suitably lined) sheer material, and it is a bit long for me. [ie., since Ricki is considerably shorter than I am, even if she wore the waistband around her neck, it would still be dragging on the floor.]
I was still clad in my pajamas, so I did not have the option to go down to her, and I called for her to come up. She refused. I called Rafi and begged him: “Please don’t pick her up. She has my skirt on.” So I called to Ricki that Rafi would not pick her up in my skirt, and she should come upstairs and change. So my 16 year old teenager changed skirts ON THE SPOT (IN THE STREET) to my horror. (I admit that she did it in a modest way, pulling on her skirt over the borrowed one, and then removing mine, but it STILL is not what you want your daughter to do on the street…….) SHEESH!
I flew downstairs to get the skirt (by now I had managed to get clothed decently), and called Rafi to check if he would by chance be making a second pass. He said he would try. After several minutes, I realized that he probably wasn’t going to make it, so I started walking Ricki to school. (Normally I wouldn’t mind the walk, but Ricki walks so slowly that this would count as lost time, not sport walking.) In the middle Ricki wanted me to carry her school supplies (which where quite heavy), and I suggested that she remove them from the fancy plastic bag she was carrying and put them in her near-empty made-for-schoolbooks-backpack. There, I explained, on her back, she would feel the weight less.
As she opened her schoolbag, I noticed a wrapped package. I queried Ricki as to the package’s contents, and the answer was not forthcoming. Balking to answer me was a clear sign of guilt, and I told her to show me the contents. She refused, but at that moment Rafi pulled up alongside us. I made it clear to Ricki that she could go with Rafi only after parting with the contraband. Rafi interjected a slightly exasperated “Come on, Ricki, I don’t have all day”, so she tossed the box my way and entered the cab.
At home I examined the box and found a one-year-old level child’s toy which I had been storing on the back porch, wrapped in contact paper left over from covering my kitchen for Passover (which had also been on the porch).
Was she planning to play with it or give it as a gift? Who knows……
Never a dull moment here…….