I Forgot to Leave My Son Lunch Money, but He Said, “Don’t Worry, Mom.” Dad Hides It in the Cereal Box
After Jess forgets to give Caleb lunch money, he displays a cereal box full of money. How? Why? Why would her husband keep this from her while the family is struggling financially? Jess works to find the truth…
Before leaving the house, the morning had gone wrong.
I was up before dawn, my head heavy from lack of sleep. I was exhausted from my morning duty as chief baker and my second job later that day.
The big morning checklist—bills, groceries, laundry, breakfast, and more—was all I could think about. I didn’t realize it until halfway through molding dough.
I neglected to give Caleb lunch money.
Swearing, I wiped the flour from my hands and searched for my phone. Just as I grabbed it, Caleb’s text appeared on the screen.
No lunch money, Mom?
Stomach dropped immediately. I called him instead of responding to his SMS. I wanted to hear his voice to realize my error.
“Hey, Mom,” Caleb’s voice was too quiet for a twelve-year-old who should be thinking about his favorite video game, not lunch money. I texted you. Lunch money is gone today.”
Shame struck me as I leaned on the counter. I felt horrible that I didn’t cook Caleb lunch, forcing him to eat restaurant food. Since I was forgetting more, I was barely keeping up.
I apologized to Caleb, my sweetheart. I totally forgot. I wanted to finish washing before leaving.”
It seemed like everything was falling apart lately. Especially important stuff. I wanted to cry over my babka batches.
“No problem, Mom!” Caleb spoke calmly. I’ll search Dad’s cereal box for money. Anyway, I don’t need much.”
I froze.
“What?” I requested.
“You know, the cereal box,” he continued. The Cheerios? Dad keeps money there occasionally. Sometimes within, sometimes outside the box.”
I was unsure how to answer. My husband, stashing cash? I considered asking Caleb to clarify, but I didn’t want to start a rumor. Caleb had a full day of school first.
“Right,” I answered. “You do that! See you later, honey. I love you!
Okay, adore you! Caleb chirped and hung up, leaving me in the bakery’s rear, confused.
Money in a cereal box? Within my pantry? Why?
I barely made it through my shift. Although my thoughts was racing, my hands worked automatically as I removed bread from the oven.
Marcus concealed money for how long? And why? We barely survived, counting every dime. Marcus claimed we didn’t have enough money, so I bought Caleb his new sneakers from a budget store.
We were behind on payments, the car needed maintenance, and I worked two jobs to survive. After finishing my shift as chief baker, I made all the sandwiches at the 24-hour deli across the street.
I was dying. My back hurt worse than ever throughout pregnancy.
Marcus hid this money from me. How?
After finishing my shift, the bakery was vacant, so I went to the deli, still reeling from Caleb’s words. All I could think about was the cereal box envelope and why I hadn’t noticed it.
I didn’t take off my shoes when I got home that night. With a racing heart, I rushed to the pantry. Indeed, it was. An envelope under the Cheerios box.
With shaking hands, I removed it.
I found more cash than in months. Hundreds, maybe more.
It wasn’t only Caleb’s lunch money for forgetfulness. It paid for our car maintenance, rent, and perhaps some expenses.
I gazed at the cash stack, trying to comprehend it.
Marcus sat on this as I broke my back working 12-hour days, believing we were drowning.
Instead of shouting for Marcus, I heard him on the phone in the study. He seemed to be in a meeting, so I didn’t interrupt.
Instead, I put hake, broccoli, and tomatoes on a baking dish. My youngster needs food.
Tension filled dinner that night. My fury boiled when I saw my spouse, but I didn’t argue.
Not yet.
I needed to test his resolve.
I kept my voice calm while raising the automobile.
“We need to check the transmission, Marcus,” I added. ‘Tis just going to get worse.
Marcus barely looked up from his plate. Instead, he topped his fish with spicy sauce.
He answered, “We’ll have to wait, Jess. “We lack funds now.”
In midair, I glanced at him. He stated it naturally, as if the cereal box stash didn’t exist and he believed it. Something snapped inside me.
The next morning after my bakery job, I did something I never dreamed.
I scheduled an appointment at a fancy spa. Complete overhaul. Hair, nails, massage—everything. It was dangerous, impetuous, and certainly irresponsible, but I didn’t care.
Everyday seemed weird.
I thought of the envelope, the sleepless nights I spent worrying about money while kneading dough before dawn, and my back discomfort while the stylist worked on my hair.
Marcus quietly pretended we had nothing, sitting on enough cash to ease our struggles.
Returning home, I scarcely recognized myself.
I would spend the money.
I had beautiful curls and bright crimson nails. I looked like someone who had it together and wasn’t struggling every day.
Marcus entered with wide eyes when he saw me.
“What did you do?”
“I found the money in the cereal box,” I said. I earned a day alone.”
The color left his face.
You shouldn’t have wasted that. It was not intended for this.”
I became angry again.
“For what, Marcus? Because I’ve been working myself to death, believing we’re barely getting by, while you’ve been hoarding some hidden stockpile I have no knowledge about.”
I wasn’t hiding it, Jessica. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
Worry about what? I demanded. “I do nothing else! I fret constantly. About everything!”
Rubbing his face, he slumped into a chair.
I have a boss… He suggested layoffs. I wanted to save in case. I wouldn’t discuss something that might never happen.”
“You lied to me?”
“I didn’t lie,” he said. “I didn’t tell you.”
Marcus and I always spoke honestly. At least I thought we did. I inhaled to calm down. Yet I was wounded.
Really stung.
He softened as he glanced at me.
“Marcus, we should be transparent. You should have trusted me to tell me the truth.”
“You’re right,” he said. I’m sorry.”
Are you aware of this look? I’m thinking we’re broke, working two jobs while you hide money for a potential tragedy. How did you not tell me?
He shook his head, “I didn’t want to make things worse.” “I thought keeping it to myself would be easier.”
Marcus, you thought this was easier? Thundered.
He remained silent.
“What if you lost your job tomorrow? Then what? Are you going to reveal your secret hoard and say, “Oh hey, by the way, I’ve been saving this all along?”
“No… Yes, indeed. Maybe. No idea. I wanted to safeguard you.”
“You don’t protect me by keeping me in the dark, Marcus.”
It seems that my remarks had penetrated. But I wasn’t sure Marcus understood.
I wasn’t sure he comprehended my feelings.
Marcus, we work together. Are we not?” I requested.
“We are, Jess,” he said. “I swear.”
Everything hung in the air as we sat there. I calmed down gradually. Marcus made a mistake, but I could see he didn’t mean to hurt me. Unfortunately, I was harmed.
We had a long way to go before trust mended.
The next morning, I agreed not to raid cereal boxes without asking, and he pledged there would be no more secret stashes.
Despite our struggles, we were now united.
Right?
What would you’ve done?
