When you grow up working in a family business, you quickly learn that trusting your family is central to success. More than once I heard my dad say, “Never trust anyone but your brother, and keep a sharp eye on him.”
Truth is he was speaking to my brother, so I was the one to be watched closely. Which makes sense because I was over a decade younger and far more prone to do something stupid.
But whether applied to him, me, my sisters, my uncles, or anyone in the family, the point was the same: don’t trust anyone but your family, but keep a sharp eye on them.
Curiously, it didn’t create a culture of distrust or suspicion. You’d think it would, but there was a hint of sarcasm in the rule, a smile on dad’s face, and the family actually did trust each other, so it just seemed like good sense.
Until the day my parents lied to me about ice cream.
My older siblings were off doing whatever older siblings do, so my parents packed up the rebuilt junkyard car, put me in the backseat, and headed to Lake Tahoe for a few days out of the city.
On previous trips, mom and dad always teased that if I fell asleep they’d stop for ice cream without me. So I’d diligently stay awake. Until I wasn’t. But they didn’t pull over, and of course I knew they were teasing, so it was a fun silly family thing.
But this one time, on the trip to Tahoe, they looked in the back seat and saw me fast asleep. They pulled over at a restaurant. And ordered – you guessed it – ice cream.
They seriously thought they’d get away with this. But I woke up, realized the car wasn’t moving, and popped my head up over the back seat. And I could see them through the cafe window, sitting in a booth enjoying their ice cream!
Now here’s the thing. I could act like a baby and make them feel bad. Or I could storm out of the car into the restaurant and demand an explanation. Or I could sit passively in the car like a good little boy.
I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I pretended to go back to sleep. Fifteen minutes later they quietly got back into the car and gently began driving away, thinking they’d fooled me.
The next night Mom cooked dinner. When it was over, I innocently asked what was for dessert. “Nothing tonight dear,” was the answer.
“No, I think there will be dessert tonight,” I said in as close to an adult voice as I could muster. “I mean, if you can lie to me about getting ice cream, then you can go back and buy some for me too.”
Yes, I was a smartass.
But also yes, my parents exploded in laughter. They’d been caught. And loved it. Mom mumbled something about my attitude, but she did so with a smile.
Never trust anyone but your family. And keep a sharp eye on them.