The kids were enjoying a post-baseball game treat of ice cream—Joe’s team won! Yay!—when Angela proceeded to voice a complaint. It seems that after dinner last night she got neither ice cream nor cake—the sad consequence of not finishing all her supper.
“Angela.” Felicity was properly indignant, sensing as she did the impropriety of complaining about dessert while eating dessert. “There are a lot of people who don’t even get supper at night. There are a lot of people who are so poor that they have to eat dirt.”
“Grandma and Grandpa are poor,” Angela allowed.
“My mom and dad?” I was surprised by her response. I mean, my parents live simply but are not, by any stretch, hurting financially. “Why do you think that Grandma and Grandpa are poor?”
“Because they don’t have stairs.”
HAHAH!
My grandparents are "poor" then, too!
HA! That's what my kids say now that we have two stories… don't they realize we are still poor?
LOL
That's why my kids think we're poor… because we don't have stairs. Perhaps it's some "kid list" that we're not privy to?