organic, free range, all natural consequences

I've heard it said that comedy equals tragedy plus time.  This tragedy didn't need much time to be funny.  I can tell this story freely now as both families involved have since moved from our neighborhood:

In our church when a boy turns 14 he is given the opportunity to serve as a Home Teacher.  In our area they are often in a companionship with their fathers for the first year or so and are assigned to visit the same 2-3 families each month.  Our oldest had just turned the ripe old age of 14.

It was a Saturday evening, one of those rare evenings that my sweetheart and I had the house to ourselves as the kids were all away with friends.  A candle flickered warmly from the countertop as the smell of fresh apple pie wafted through our kitchen.  The kitchen was spotless, the house quiet, the moment perfect.  "I love this life," I thought to myself.

And then someone was pounding on our door.  Angry.  Urgent.  Pounding.

We opened it to find a gentleman from our neighborhood.  His face beet red, his bloodshot eyes spitting fire.  "Is this your son's shoe?!"  He was working hard to control his words and his temper.  My eyes moved to the size 10.5 loafer he was holding a bit like a trophy.  Oh dear.

We invited him and listened intently as he told us of being doorbell ditched and of chasing the perpetrator over hedges, around cars, behind houses, down streets.  He said the perp finally ran up to another neighbor's porch and straight through their front door in a desperate attempt to escape.  We apologized profusely and assured him we'd have a talk with our son.

Here comes the good part:

Our son arrived home just before curfew and made a beeline straight for his room.  I knocked softly on his door before letting myself in.  I set the damning evidence on the bed beside him.  "Dad and I got a call from the  Elders Quorum President tonight.  You've been called as a home teacher."  The two families he'd been called to home teach?  The family he had just doorbell ditched and the family whose home he had barged into while escaping.  I kissed his forehead, told him I loved him and closed the door quietly on my way out.

Best parenting moment EVER!

epilogue:
He actually turned out to be a stellar home teacher.  The doorbell ditch family loved him and requested that he stay their home teacher until the day they moved.  He has since been assigned to new families.  He has taught lessons, moved furniture, fixed garage doors, mowed lawns.  He offered, on his own, to drive the autistic son of a single mother to school this year.  And he's doing it, happily.