We arrived at the park this morning and within minutes Hanna (age 7.99) approached me excitedly with something in her hands. It was the kind of thing you’re so excited about showing someone you don’t actually show it to them. You simply hold up your cupped hands, clenching the object with a huge grin on your face and as a parent, you’re not sure if when she does decide it’s time for the grand, slow motion unveiling, if it’s going to be alive.
Today’s special find? A toonie.
Whenever there is money involved, there are a few things to take into account.
While 1/3 of me wanted to return the toonie to its rightful owner because I wanted to see how Hanna would deal with giving up something she was so excited to find but knew it wasn’t hers to begin with,
Another 1/3 wanted to witness the reaction from other kids/parents/legal guardians/caretakers/crossing guards/baseball umpires/random youtube filmographers and get a sense of what kind of crowd we were dealing with. Perhaps for future reference if I left say my cell phone or a tall Tazo chai with soy on the bench unattended. Was this the kind of group that might make a few random calls and take a swig of my delicious beverage or would they follow me to the mini-van with telephone and tea offerings?
The final 1/3 confirmed we should try to locate the toonie’s rightful owner because deep down I knew the guy with the open fanny pack with stuff dangling from it was dangerously close to announcing he’d lost his coffee money and wouldn’t we look terrible if we knowingly robbed him of his caffeine fix. It wouldn’t take long for him to notice the kid flashing the coin to random park goers and we would be banned (from yet another park) for life.
When she asked, “Did you lose this?” holding the toonie not so much as an offering but keeping it close so if she decided to abort the mission part way through she had enough distance to sprint to the van.
He bent down to thank her and wasn’t sure how to proceed. I could tell he likely wanted the money for something following the visit to the park. Maybe it was to buy swan food, metre money or simply to finish a domino extravaganza he’d built in his attic that could only be triggered by this, his lucky toonie. But he struggled with taking it from the little girl who so clearly wanted to brag to her sisters “I found more money than Daddy makes in a whole year.” Not entirely true but an interesting understanding of the value of a dollar from a 7.99 year old.
His wife very quickly in her most condescending-wife voice said, “Now dear, you owe this little girl a reward for returning your money. Give her the toonie.” We made eye contact with a Mother’s unite kind of vibe.
He acted as though that was his plan all along and nodded in agreement with his wife as he handed over the only tool that would aptly start his domino collection knowing now things would just fizzle part way through and hours of hard work and dedication had been destroyed by his nagging wife.
Hanna was elated and hopped around a little bit richer than when she arrived. I prayed the money wouldn’t change her.
I was quick to inform Fanny-Pack-Domino-Soon-To-Be-In-Marriage-Counselling-Guy he would have his money back within five minutes.
She was bound to lose it on the playground.
