Skepticism, Trust, and Donald Trump

Sometimes, I think I worry too much about my son. Yes, that's an understatement among mothers. I suppose I have the standard-issue concerns, but one of my biggest ones is that he's so trusting. Too trusting. He believes in the best in everyone and it would never occur to him that anyone, other than a costumed arch villain, could wish anyone harm or have ulterior motives.

When he was nine, for some long lost reason, we'd watched the first season of Donald Trump's The Apprentice. It was the first time that Thomas had ever seen anyone show so much arrogance, so much posturing, so much Trumpness. Yet, he was excited that Donald Trump was giving up his "valuable time" to help the career of a hard-working, smart individual. Of course, there could be no other motive. At this time, we had a trip scheduled for New York City. Looking at pictures of our hotel online, Thomas noticed we were not too far from Trump Tower and happily detected a McDonald's in the hotel's background. My son is a notoriously picky eater and, at that age, he needed the reassurance of a McDonald's as back-up. So, it was all perfect in his mind. He'd invite Donald Trump to lunch at McDonald's. He'd saved his allowance, he'd be able to treat. So he asked me to help him find Donald Trump's address.

I admit it. I balked. I explained that not only was there no way this idea would ever become a reality, but his letter would probably get trashed. At Thomas' insistence, we found the address and he carefully wrote out his invitation, including the tempting offer of a free Happy Meal PLUS an apple pie. Thomas enclosed the most recent photo of himself so Donald Trump would recognize him at the restaurant. The photo had been from Disney World. A picture with Chip, of Chip and Dale fame. Thomas added a p.s. that he was the one in the photo who wasn't a chipmunk.

No, the lunch never happened. But, much to my surprise and Thomas' satisfaction, he received a letter from Donald Trump. Initially, I thought it was a form letter. Reading it, I wondered how many times he wrote: "Your invitation to treat me to lunch at McDonald's is appreciated..." Okay, so maybe it wasn't a form letter after all.

A couple of years later, we were in Minneapolis. While my husband was at a conference, we spent the day on our own. There was a restaurant I was interested in for dinner, and again with his caution of all unknown foods, Thomas and I were going to stop by during the day and look at their menu. Taking an unknown shortcut in a large, unfamiliar city isn't always the best idea. Suddenly, the street we were walking down looked a little...menacing. I realized we were the only two people on the block, aside from a couple of men several yards away who looked a little threatening. One glanced up and saw us. He whispered something to the other man, who glanced our way. Their stances changed.

I took Thomas' arm and whispered, "We're crossing the street here."

"But, we're not at the corner!"

"I know. I'll explain later, let's go."

I gave a quick look both ways and we started quickly crossing the street. Until the heel of my shoe got caught in a pothole and I fell down, my ankle so twisted I struggled to get up.

"Mom, the light just changed!"

As soon as Thomas said that, the two men I'd been avoiding hurried over. One held back cars while the other helped me to my feet.

"Are you okay? Are you able to walk?"

"Yes, thank you, I'll be fine."

So, I hobbled across the rest of the street and towards the restaurant, which was nearby now.

"Mom, were those guys who just helped you the ones you didn't want us to walk past?"

I looked at him. I felt ashamed. In his eyes, I could see mild reproach and concern. He understood why I'd reacted the way I did, but wished I could be more trusting, see the best in people.

Sometimes, I think my son worries too much about me.