My 8-year-old son secretly skipped school lunches to buy our neighbor’s daughter a red birthday dress. I thought his biggest problem would be explaining himself to me. The next morning, dozens of lunchboxes covered our lawn. Noah opened the biggest one, backed away, and told me to call the cops.
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The first time Noah saw the red dress, he stopped so suddenly that I nearly walked straight into him.
“Mom.”
The next morning, dozens of lunchboxes covered our lawn.
I followed his finger to a tiny red dress in the store window, with a full skirt and a bow at the waist.
“Lucy needs that.”
I looked at him. “Needs?”
Noah considered the word.
“Okay. Wants.”
I laughed. “She hasn’t even seen it.”
“She’d like it, Mom.”
I followed his finger to a tiny red dress in the store window
“How do you know?”
He gave me the patient look children reserve for adults who have somehow failed to understand something obvious.
“Because she’d look like a princess.”
***
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Lucy lived next door with her mother, Hannah.