My 10-year-old son came home in tears. He told me the school asked everyone to bring their mom’s specialty dish for the teacher’s birthday—except him, because he was “the poor kid.” I saw red. There was no way I’d let my son feel inferior.
I spent all night baking my famous pie. The next day, I marched to school to confront the teacher. But she looked stunned. “There’s no birthday today,” she said. “Your son is outside with his friends, and he’s very happy!”
During recess, I found him. He wasn’t crying; he was surrounded by classmates, counting a wad of cash. He’d been selling slices of my pie for $4 each! That evening, he confessed the truth: he concocted the story to raise money for a video game I’d told him we couldn’t afford.
Now, I’m torn between disappointment that my son is such a skilled deceiver and genuine pride in his budding entrepreneurial spirit.
