when I was a little girl, my father used to keep small change in a bakhoor burner. It had an insert dish that created two layers, in the top of which he kept the “big” coins and in the lower one, the “small” coins. One day, in a thrilling moment filled with fear and excitement, I stole all the small coins. I think I was around 7.
The next day, I gave my collection of coins to the woman working at the school kiosk and said I wanted sweets for that money. Imagine my shock and elation when my “plan” worked and I got a cardboard box filled with sweets wrapped in pretty paper. That’s where my memory fades. All I remember is the feeling of utter excitement, then the regret and guilt that followed. I did eat the sweets though (with a friend)!
Years later, I told Dad about this and turns out he knew I was occasionally stealing small money from them and chose not to make a deal out it. I never touched anyone else money other than my parents’. At some point I stopped cold turkey because the guilt was too much. I guess you get on your own that some things are wrong without adults lecturing you about it.