When I was six I wanted a remote controlled truck. It was bright blue and in the Sears catalog. I wanted it real bad but my parents told me they wouldn't buy it for me. I had to buy it myself. It was a hundred dollars. That much money to me seemed insane.
My parents both made crafts and went to craft shows to sell their wares. I asked if I could sell stuff too and they were overjoyed. I made little fluffy things out of Fun Fur: little snake with googly eyes that rose up when you petted it and tufts glued to the end of pencils to look like those little troll dolls. Each one was priced at a dollar and my mom subsidized my venture by buying all the materials. I had to sell a hundred of them to buy my truck. I was an ADD kid so I couldn't even count that high without getting distracted.
Time rolled on and slowly over the course of a dozen or so craft sales my pile of cash grew and grew until I had enough. Just for me my parents made the three hour long (round trip)journey into the city. I was so excited. I had worked so hard and now I was getting what I wanted.
Life rarely works out as planned unfortunately. The truck also required one of those fancy batteries that wasn't included. The kind that cost another $40. My parents didn't come to my rescue. They just told me I'd have to work harder to afford the new cost. On the way back I was in tears, my heart broken. My mother then told me that I shouldn't be sad, and to remember the smiles of the people I sold my stuff to. Money was just a way to say thank you, but the real reward was in making other people happy.
My parents both made crafts and went to craft shows to sell their wares. I asked if I could sell stuff too and they were overjoyed. I made little fluffy things out of Fun Fur: little snake with googly eyes that rose up when you petted it and tufts glued to the end of pencils to look like those little troll dolls. Each one was priced at a dollar and my mom subsidized my venture by buying all the materials. I had to sell a hundred of them to buy my truck. I was an ADD kid so I couldn't even count that high without getting distracted.
Time rolled on and slowly over the course of a dozen or so craft sales my pile of cash grew and grew until I had enough. Just for me my parents made the three hour long (round trip)journey into the city. I was so excited. I had worked so hard and now I was getting what I wanted.
Life rarely works out as planned unfortunately. The truck also required one of those fancy batteries that wasn't included. The kind that cost another $40. My parents didn't come to my rescue. They just told me I'd have to work harder to afford the new cost. On the way back I was in tears, my heart broken. My mother then told me that I shouldn't be sad, and to remember the smiles of the people I sold my stuff to. Money was just a way to say thank you, but the real reward was in making other people happy.