When I was a kid Mak always said something like this , "You kids always want, want, want. What have you given?" when we whined about something. We knew perfectly well we weren't going to get them anyway, but whining was fun when you knew when to stop.
"Huh?"
"What have you given to me? to your father? to your sisters? to your brothers?"
In my head. Oh...no, Mak is getting crazy. She is not only different from other kids' mothers, now she wants me to give her money.
"But I only seven years old Mak, where do I get the money? Every day you only give me thirty cents." I thought I was smart. In a way I reminded her that thirty cents wasn't enough.
"You bring your lunch everyday.You don't have to spend your thirty cents."
"But you know I don't spend all the money."
"Good, don't spend them at all. By Friday you get $1.50, give them to me and I put them away, by the end of the month you get $6.00. When you ask me for money, I have them for you."
I was sure Mak was getting crazy. She spent too much time by herself. If she wasn't pulling out weeds from her little vegetable garden or searching for little insects on tomatoes's buds, she would be at her Singer sewing machine, sewing something. Why can't she be like other kids's mothers on the block? Sitting together, giggling and swapping stories?
"But that would be my money that you are giving back to me."
"No. It's not your money. You are not working. Your father does."
I got to come up with a better strategy.
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