One Sticker

Hi sweet girl,

Someday you may remember this story, when perchance reading this blog, or maybe when you have a son or daughter someday.

Today we were driving to Target, early, to beat the Holiday Chaos Shopping, and as we turned the corner near the parking lot, you asked me to roll down your window and then roll it back up. I looked back and saw you toss something very small out the window.

"Did you just litter?" I asked, borderline angry.

Your sheepish, rather surprised look was the answer.

"What did you throw out the window?" I asked a couple times, but you didn't answer. The shock of what you did started to register, in a flushed face that looked near tears.

I said a couple other things that I don't remember now, probably about a thousand dollar fine for littering, slathered with guilt, as to why littering is bad. Then I stopped, and I put the question to you. "Tell me, Ava, three reasons why litter is bad."

You gave me a couple good answers - it makes the Earth look bad. It hurts the Earth. It could hurt dogs who could eat the litter.

I parked the car and we sat for a second. You admitted it was a sticker you threw out the window. I said, calmly at this point, "Here's the thing. You think it doesn't matter about one little sticker, right? But here's the thing. You start with one small sticker. Someone else sees that sticker, and tosses their gum wrapper, because there is already a sticker. Then someone else sees the sticker and the gum wrapper, and tosses their fast food wrapper or coffee cup, because there is already litter. Suddenly that one sticker has attracted more and more litter, and the street looks horrible.

"That's why Daddy is cleaning the streets around our neighborhood. Daddy is doing such a great job of cleaning up, putting out trash cans, and our whole neighborhood looks better. There is less graffiti, less dumping of old mattresses and broken furniture. It all starts with cleaning up litter ... which all starts with one gum wrapper or one sticker or one coffee cup that someone drops on the ground and is too lazy to pick up.

"Pinky promise me," I asked you, "that you'll never litter again."

And you did, both of us smiling as we shook pinky fingers.