When I was about 13, I was snooping around my older brother’s room and found a stack of 20 dollar bills stashed away. He was saving up from his high school job to buy a car. Hundreds of dollars. To 13-year old me it was a fortune, and I figured he wouldn’t notice if I stole just one 20 — still a lot of money to me. So I did.
For years I would remember it every once and a while and feel guilty. The worst part was, when I took the 20, he was also a teenage kid and probably knew exactly how much money was there. He probably knew I took one but let me get away with it because he figured I needed it. That made me feel much worse.
15 years later, I’m hanging around with him on the holidays. I see that he left his wallet on the counter, and he’s upstairs. I sneak into his wallet, see there are a few 20s, and I slide an extra one in there.Got him!
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