Wesley leaned back in his chair and pushed his plate away.
“Meatloaf again?” he groaned. “Can’t we have something else for once?”
His mother’s smile faded.
“We had roast chicken yesterday, hamburgers the day before, and fish on Friday…” she pointed out.
Wesley rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
He stood up, ready to leave the table when his mother called after him.
“Wesley, please rinse your plate and put it in the dishwasher.”
He turned back with a smirk. “Why should I? I’m not your slave!”
His mother gasped. “My slave?”
“Yeah,” Wesley said smugly. “Work without pay is slavery, and you don’t pay me!”
His father set down his fork. “Son, we house you, feed you, clothe you, and send you to school—”
“That’s your duty!” Wesley cut him off. “The law says you have to do it. But I don’t have to do anything unless I get paid.”
His mother’s face turned red with anger, but his father simply leaned back, stroking his chin.
“So you think you should be paid for doing chores?” his father asked calmly.
Wesley grinned, feeling victorious. “Exactly! If you want me to take out the trash, that’s $1. Washing dishes? $2. Walking the dog, $4. Cleaning my room, $5. And mowing the lawn? That’s a solid $10.”
His mother opened her mouth to argue, but his father held up a hand.
“Alright, Wesley,” his father said, nodding. “From now on, we’ll pay you for every chore you do.”
Wesley’s grin widened.
“But,” his father continued, “since you’re earning your own money, you’ll also start paying for your own expenses.”
Wesley barely heard him. He was too busy thinking about how rich he was about to become.
The next afternoon, Wesley walked in after football practice, starving.
“Mom, what’s for dinner?” he asked, sniffing the air.
His mother was sitting at the table, eating with his dad.
“Turkey pot pie with sweet potatoes and peas,” she said with a sweet smile.
“Awesome! I’m starving!” Wesley rubbed his hands together and reached for a plate.
But his father stopped him.
“Hold on, son. Since you’re making your own money now, your mom won’t be cooking for free anymore. If you’d like dinner, that’ll be $10.”
Wesley’s jaw dropped.
“TEN DOLLARS?! That’s robbery!”
His mother shrugged. “Or you can order something for yourself. Your choice!”
