"Daddy,
how much do you make an hour?" With a timid voice and idolizing eyes,
the little boy greeted his father as he returned from work.
Greatly
surprised, but giving his boy a glaring look, the father said: "Look,
son, not even your mother knows that. Don't bother me now, I'm
tired."
"But
Daddy, just tell me please! How much do you make an hour?" the boy
insisted. The father, finally giving up, replied: "Twenty dollars per
hour."
"Okay,
Daddy. Could you loan me ten dollars?" the boy asked.
Showing
his restlessness and positively disturbed, the father yelled: "So
that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right? Go to sleep and
don't bother me anymore!"
It
was already dark and the father was meditating on what he said and was feeling
guilty. Maybe he thought, his son wanted to buy something. Finally,
trying to ease his mind, the father went to his son's room.
"Are
you asleep, son?" asked the father.
"No,
Daddy. Why?" replied the boy, partially asleep.
"Here's
the money asked for earlier, " the father said.
"Thanks,
Daddy!" rejoiced the son, while putting his hand under his pillow and
removing some money. "Now I have enough! Now I have twenty
dollars!" the boy said to his father, who was gazing at his son, confused
at what his son had just said.
"Daddy,
could you sell me one hour of your time?"