Nov 21, 2016 3 min read

“Please tell me that Dad is pranking me,” were the first words I heard when I answered the call from my daughter at school. I could hear the tears in her voice, and knew immediately that the call was no joke.

“Slowly, slowly,” I crooned into the phone. “Tell me what’s wrong. Nobody is pranking you.”

“If it’s no prank, then my car has been stolen,” she cried.

Let me back up a second. Why might our child think a stolen car was a prank from her dad? For years, our children have moved virtually everything we have ever owned from the places that we put them. Our keys, glasses, tools, the television remote – you name it – have been moved from the places we put them. And then, they promptly forgot about it. When asked, nobody touched anything.

Now, I know there is normalcy there. Kids do that. But it is one of those things that can drive a person mad. So, as they have gotten older, my husband has mentioned a time or two how he will repay those kindnesses. One thing he mentioned may have been moving the kid’s car to where she can’t find it.

Alas, he hadn’t had a moment of sweet revenge. We were truly as clueless as she was in regard to its location.

I encouraged her to immediately go speak to security and make sure it hadn’t been towed for some on-campus infraction. She agreed to call me back.

She was crying harder when I spoke to her next; security hadn’t towed her. They drove through campus, and having seen no car, called the sheriff to file a report. She gave them all of the pertinent information and was told to expect a call that the car had been torched or crashed. They have seen it too many times.

I assured her that she wasn’t in trouble, that bad things happen to good people, and that she will survive on campus without the car.

She remained inconsolable.

I get that. There is something about being burglarized that feels very violating. A sense of peace and security that is taken away. Crying is a legitimate release, and I let her do it.

Finally, she said she had to go. She had missed an exam while in the security office, and the professor was letting her come to his next session and take a make-up test. She promised to call back after.

When she did call back, she sounded much cheerier. She had just spoken with state troopers, who had found her car. It had been tucked back into the corner of a restricted lot on campus, and bore no damage. Troopers assured her that they had seen this many times, as well. Someone likely “borrowed” her car, probably to shuttle others home from the bar, and then parked it someplace other than where they had found it. If she has any idea who did it, or comes to find out who did, she can press charges for up to a year.

We all are grateful that this was our outcome, knowing that it could have been much worse. My husband is grateful, as well, that a lesson was taught and he didn’t have to be the bad guy.

Although, now that the danger has passed, I might have overheard him plotting other pranks to perform instead.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.