The Price of Belonging

Ever since I was a kid, I hated taking things I hadn't earned.

When I was seven, the lunch lady at my foster home shorted me half a scoop of meat and still had the nerve to call me greedy.

"You little bottomless pits are going to eat this whole foster home into bankruptcy!"

I actually thought we were eating too much. So, for a whole month, I secretly weighed every single portion of food served to the kids.

The purchasing logs showed 100 pounds of meat. But only 70 pounds ever made it onto our plates.