“Dad! Dad!” Conner screamed, waving a piece paper in my face.
“What?” I asked.
“We have to sell things for school and we get prizes. If I sell 10 I get that little spinning toy!” he exclaimed.
“Conner, that little spinning toy isn’t worth a quarter. It’s not worth bothering a bunch of people we know to try and sell stuff.”
“But I really want it.”
“Conner you could not sell things, I’ll give you a few bucks and you could buy a ton of those. Nothing on this sheet is worth working for.”
“But I really, really want it.”
“What were you supposed to sell anyway?”
“I don’t know, old shoes or something?”
“What?” I asked, “Old shoes?”
“They are selling cookie dough,” Becca cut in.
He just shrugged at me, with an innocently confused look on his face.
“Conner, how did you get old shoes from cookie dough?”