One Theft Too Many

Jacob received a Ranger Rick magazine in the mail yesterday. I tossed it to his seat at the dinner table as I sorted through the mail, knowing that he would dig into it at dinner. I have recently begun to encourage my children to read at the table as part of The Dinnertime Bickering Reduction Plan. I've not decided yet whether that makes me a sellout or a genius, but I'm leaning toward genius.

Sure enough, I heard a "Hey, what's this?" as soon as the boy hit the chair. By the time I brought his plate to the table, he'd already found something interesting to read - an article about a horse-riding boy with cerebral palsy. We had an interesting discussion at our end of the table while Nick and Claire discussed the necessary number of bites to form a complete meal. I gather there was quite a difference of opinion.

After dinner, a magical thing happened. Nick walked by the end of the table and snagged Jake's Ranger Rick right in front of our eyes. Jake protested loudly. Nick was nabbed! As for me, I jumped on that opportunity with all the vigor I could muster. "That's right, Jacob! It's not nice to steal someone else's magazine!" Later that evening, I heard Jake rescue my Time from Nick's clutches. Ah sweet, sweet victory.

He's training the children.

People who have known me for a while know that I have a Time magazine problem. Nick steals it from me every single week. If Nick and I ever divorce, it will be because of the magazine theft issue. I have tried writing my name on it, hiding it, rolling it up and threatening to swat Nick on the head with it. Nothing has worked. Every week, I must hunt it down with all the cunning of Hemingway on safari. The last time he renewed the subscription, Nick thought of a new tactic. The subscription is now addressed to him. So my magazine isn't even my magazine any more.

I thought that renewing the subscription in his own name was as low as Nick could go. I was wrong. It has become clear over the last several weeks that Nick is training the children to follow in his thieving footsteps. First, I noticed that Jacob was reading the magazine while using the restroom. I assumed that Nick had left it in there and Jake, bored while waiting for poo, had picked it up. Sure, it's a little odd to see an 8 year old reading about architecture in the bathroom, but Jake is a little odd sometimes.

The second clue came a few days later. I shook out Jake's blanket to tuck him in and the Time flew out. I cocked my head a bit and sucked in my breath, but bedtime is generally not the best time for criminal investigations. I tucked my magazine under my arm and went on my way. Then I promptly forgot about it.

The nail in the coffin came this morning. I sat down to breakfast and realized with a thrill that my magazine was laying on the table. "Aha!" I thought. "I can read an article while I eat!" I sipped my coffee while I scooted the magazine closer and Claire screeched at me. It was on the table because she was looking at the pictures. She made it perfectly clear that she had found the magazine in the play room and brought it to the breakfast table for her own pleasure, not mine. She even suggested that I read the grocery flyer.

I am trying to decide whether to give up or renew the battle with a new, never-before-seen strategy. I'm outnumbered and quite possibly outwitted. I am also incredibly stubborn.