“Are we poor?” My son looked up to me from the cold kitchen floor.
An impossible question, coming from a toddler. Had David been a few years older, I could’ve explained the difference between having money and being rich; explained that things weren’t so simple. But David was at that age where life’s gray areas hadn’t entered his reality yet—David still lived in black and white.
So I should have given him a reassuring, “Of course not, David,” and explained it to him later, but instead I angrily blurted out, “Who told you that?”
Thus I colored his world forever.