Its your duty to pay for me, just as my father did, the boy declared. I have every right to it!
Ethel decided she needed a new pair of socks.
Are you going to cover all your expenses with the childsupport money my father sends for me? her son asked.
Mrs. Clarke hesitated to answer. Her husband had only recently transferred maintenance payments into his exwifes account. He had urged her to buy the boy proper clothing because he had been rewearing his old garments for years.
What does that even mean? Mrs. Clarke asked, thinking shed misheard. Why are you using the maintenance my father sends only for things you need?
She almost burst into tears at the question and put the socks back on the shelf.
This is a decent sweatshirt, she said, heading to the fitting rooms to try it on.
Andrew decided to pick up a few sweatshirts to see which one suited him best.
His mother checked the price tag and saw it was £50. Adding up the cost of everything, she realised the allowance wouldnt cover it, so she had to stretch the budget.
This is brilliant for me! Andrew shouted, rushing out of the fitting room with the sweatshirt and dropping it into a basket of other items.
The checkout clerk at the Westfield centre bagged the purchases.
Please pay £525, the clerk announced.
I only have £400 in my pocket. Leave some things you dont need right now, Mrs. Clarke told her son.
I wont leave anything, so pay with your money too. My father isnt the only one who has to support me. By law Im entitled to it.
Fine, Ethel fetched her wallet, handed over the cash, and placed it on the register. Thats a months worth of money. Do what you must. Pay for your clothes, but dont forget to budget for food. I wont be giving you any more cash after this. Take care. She left the shop with a stern look.
That evening Andrew arrived home with several bags full of brandname clothing.
I managed to buy shoes theyre very sharp. Do we still have anything left in the fridge?
Youve got leather shoes now, right? I suggest you cook dinner.
Mum, Im being completely serious.
Did you think I was joking?
Id better call my dad, because youre just spouting nonsense.
Good luck, then, his mother replied, smiling faintly.
Hi, Dad, could I stay with you for a month or so? Whats going on? Why are you on holiday? Could you at least send some money? Ive got nothing Alright, talk later.
How did the conversation with Dad go?
Andrew trudged back to his room, his face downcast, and his father called his exwife.
What happened between you two?
Your son decided today that everything belongs to him and that we must cater to his wishes, she explained in detail. He certainly has nerve, but its better to feed him; otherwise hell starve, and you can then deduct the amount from the maintenance. Whatever is left you can give him.
Three hours later the internet at home cut out, and Andrew turned on his mother again.
Why do you think Ill pay for the broadband now? Youre getting cocky, just as Dad said.
From next month Ill move in with my father.
Do you think youll be useful in a family that already has three kids?
I promise Ill live with him.
Fine, but you need to know you wont receive any maintenance next month because Dad told me I have to feed you, and whatever I give you Ill later deduct from the allowance.
Mrs. Clarke then told him how much she spent each month to keep both of them afloat far more than the maintenance she received. The boy finally realized he had been ungratefully demanding from his mother, apologized to both parents, and took a parttime job over the holidays to help ease her financial load.
He learned that entitlement without responsibility only breeds resentment, and that true independence comes from respecting those who support you.
