My little klepto...

When I was 8 years old one of my parents took me along with them to Neil's Fine Foods in the thriving metropolis of downtown Vale, Oregon.  As we wandered along getting what we needed I saw a pack of butterrum lifesavers that I dearly and desperately wanted.

So I took them.

Yup, I was a little thief at the tender age of 8. 

I wasn't a very smart thief, though.  As soon as we got home I was munching on those delicious butterrum lifesavers when one of my siblings...asked for one.  Of course I refused.  These were MY treat.  I'd been the one to go to all the trouble of sneaking them out of the store...

Well, what do kids do when their sister won't share?  "MOM!  Anna won't let me have any of her lifesavers!"

Oops.  Mom wanted to know where I got them from.  It didn't take much.  A stern look and I already knew I was toast.  I fessed up and apologized, but that wasn't enough.

My dad marched me back to Neil's fine foods with money from my piggybank.  We marched in the store and right up the big tall staircase to Neil's office.

I was terrified.

And Neil was probably pretty kind about the whole thing, but I'd built up the situation so much in my 8 year old mind that in my recollection he roughed me up some, threatened to break my barbie if I ever did it again and gave me a death glare that I'll never forget.

And I never did.  Stealing is a BIG no-no in my house.  Period. 

So what do I do with my little 8 year old klepto?  I can only "be" Neil so many times before the death glare gets old.  She knows the consequences and still does it.  Right now its treats...candy, fruit snacks, etc.  I've decided I'm going to have to put a lock on a cupboard to keep her out.

Unless someone out there has a different brilliant suggestion?