Rental Car Confessions

She’s always been my “truth at any cost” child, and today was no different.  We had just pulled into the rental car return area at Phoenix Airport after saying a tearful good bye to my family.  Izzy decided it would be the best time to confess something she may or may not have done to the car we were just about turn in and pay for.

Izzy’s always been an honest girl.  I don’t think she could tell a lie.  This is a good thing.  However, as parents, we know that some truths need to be whispered, rather than spoken out loud, creating an awkward moment.

There was the time a few years ago when we were enjoying a picnic at the park and some Muslim women gathered next to us for a picnic of their own.  Izzy asked me, in her biggest outdoor voice, “How come all the ‘Mary’s’ are eating lunch together?”  You got to hand it to the girl—she really poured over the pictures in her Bible story books.

Then there was the time she told our friend and neighbor, who occasionally smoked a cigar in his backyard, that “his lungs were filthy black inside.”  Yep, the girl didn’t have much tact back then.

At age nine, I do think she’s learned a thing or two about boundaries in truth telling.  Until today.  We took a slight step backwards.

As we were unloading our luggage and gathering our belongings out of the car, Izzy pulled me to the front of the car to look at something.  Not thinking much about it, or the fact that the rental car attendant was standing with clipboard in hand a few inches from us, I followed Izzy.  She pointed to a small, barely visible, smudge on the car and announced, “Mom, I think when Camden (her cousin) and I were playing with the guns we accidently scratched the car.”

Oh my.  For the love of Pete.  Can you possibly whisper?

I must have turned every shade of red and then I’m pretty sure all color drained from my face completely when I pictured social workers meeting us at Gate D4 since we allow our child to play with guns.  To be clear, they were playing with toy guns.

The kind attendant nodded and smiled.  She never said anything, but I’m certain she gave the car a full inspection once we were out of site.  I really don’t believe she found anything.  The same girl who can’t tell a lie can exaggerate a story once in a while.

It’s been a few hours.  We are back home—all of us.  There were no social workers at the gate. And the car rental bill is paid.  Her dad and I had a good laugh, but I’m sure a discussion about truth telling and timing and quiet voices when you just aren’t sure, is in store for the near future.