I’ve been thinking about this for a while, just popping into my head at random times, like a stone in my shoe I keep forgetting to kick out. It’s not a big deal, not really. Not compared to what some people go through. But it sits with me, you know? Like a little burr under the saddle. My son, he’s a senior now. Always been a bright kid. Real smart with numbers. His folks, my husband and I, we never really picked up the language all that well. Enough to get by, sure, but the bills, the forms, all that… it was always a headache. Just felt like we were swimming in glue every time we tried to sort out the electric bill or figure out what the grocery store was charging us for. So when he was maybe 14, he just sort of took over. Not asked, not told, just did it. All the utilities, the internet, keeping track of the money for food. He’d sit at the kitchen table, the light from the hood lamp shining on his head, a pile of papers in front of him, making sure everything was paid, making sure we had enough till the next paycheck. Like he was running a little office right there in our house. And we let him. We were so relieved, I guess. It was one less thing to worry about. One less thing to feel dumb about. Now he’s talking about colleges, and I just… I look at him and sometimes I see the worry lines around his eyes, the ones that weren’t there when he was little. And I wonder if we stole something from him. Not money, never that. But just… that time. Those years, where he should’ve just been a kid. Messing around, not worrying about if the water bill was going to get cut off. It’s a stupid thought, I know. We gave him a roof, food, clothes. We worked ourselves to the bone. But I still feel it, sometimes. Like a dull ache in my chest. He’s flying soon, off to whatever’s next, and I just hope he doesn’t look back at us and see two people who just piled their burdens onto his young shoulders. I hope he doesn't hate us for it.