Hooky. Truancy. Absenteeism. Malingering. All different names for the same activity; skipping school. Ever play hooky? My two oldest did, and boy, did they regret it! Especially my oldest son, Jeremy. When he found out his punishment wasn't commutable, was he mad! He cried, cajoled and basically embarrassed himself, but to no avail. He skipped school and had to pay the piper when caught.
After calling Foxcroft Academy one day to relay a message to Jeremy, my husband, Steve, was dismayed to learn that Jeremy, along with his older sister, Rhiannon, had missed thirty-two days that semester. When they arrived home, Steve asked them where they'd been. Luckily, guilt is a trait we instilled in them from an early age and they confessed that they and some friends had been going to my brother-in-law's camp in Ripley. Rhiannon accepted her penalty of restricted driving for a month with resigned acquiescence. But Jeremy was another matter.
Jeremy was a big "Pearl Jam" fan and had saved his paper delivery money for tickets to attend a concert in Boston that weekend. As I began to pronounce his punishment, I could see the look of "Oh, no, not that!" cross his face. "Mom, if you let me go to the concert, you can give me any punishment you want, just don't let me miss the concert!" Tears flowed as he desperately tried to reason. "This is a once in a lifetime concert, please, please, I'll do anything if you let me go!" I tried not to look too amused as I explained; "Jeremy, it wouldn't be a punishment if I let you choose the terms."
Next, self-righteous anger set in. "It's not fair! I spent all my hard-earned cash on these tickets and you're not going to let me go?!" Do you want these tickets to go to waste?" "Well, you can give them to a friend" I reasoned. "Other kids do worse things than me and their parents would let them go." "You're not other kids and I'm not other parents. You chose to skip school and now you have to accept the consequences." More emotions, vacillating from remorse to anger to wheedling, but I was immovable as stone. No luck, buster. You wanted to skip school, now you get to stay home.
Finally, resignation. Sniffling and hiccupping, Jeremy wiped his eyes and skulked off to his room. Later, he stole downstairs; grumbling under his breath as he fixed himself a sandwich. He heaved himself dramatically onto the couch and watched TV with the rest of the family. As the rest of us chuckled at whatever antics were on the screen, I glimpsed Jeremy out of the corner of my eye; an involuntary smile crept across his face. Even the worst punishment eventually fades.
Jeremy is now grown, married last year. He served two years as a missionary in Australia for our church. He was an airman in the Air Force for six years, making Staff Sergeant earlier than most. Last weekend he ran a marathon as a Huntsman Hometown Hero for cancer research. It was his second time running for the charity, raising over $500 each time. In short, Jeremy is a fine, upstanding citizen. And I like to think that the way the hooky incident was handled may have contributed not a small part to his character.
Boy, were you mean!
ReplyDelete:)
Fine effect essay, one whose details you obviously remember with the pleasure of the just, the justified, and the ultimately vindicated. Most impressive is the subtlety of the structure--it's very much there, but it is not mechanical and not obtrusive.
But I bet Jeremy still wishes he had made it to that concert!