Another short weekend and another one to come. On Monday morning, all of my kids become deathly ill but we just nod and push them out the door. Of course you hate school, I say, it is boring but your dad and I have work and there’s no food in the house so it is better to go to school than to stay here. And in the evening when I come in and quiz them about their days, never do I hear a sour word, a regret of having gone into the world they so dreaded. Instead I hear about silliness and swimming in the school pool, about things the teacher said, about games they invented with their friends. I hope they are getting the lesson I am teaching: you have to step over your expectations and plunge into reality.
Of course, if I was rich enough, I absolutely would never go anywhere on Monday mornings, to make up for all the torturous days of forcing myself to overcome my fears and hesitations. And if I was really rich, I would never force my kids to step over anything, let alone their expectations. Poor people don’t get to avoid the things we don’t like. We have to take it on the chin and grow, even express gratitude for the opportunity and experience.