One day when my daughter was 7 or 8, she gave me a pearl necklace that she had made at school. I told her I loved it and thanked her. That night before we went for dinner with friends, my daughter said to me, “Mom, you can wear your new necklace!”
I looked at necklace, thinking I shouldn’t disappoint her, but a small section of the necklace didn’t have pearl on it. “I’ll wear it next time,” I said.
“No, Mom, wear it today,” she said.
“I can’t. Not today. Next time, okay?”
She wasn’t happy; I felt terrible.
Many years later, I got older and was no longer care what people think of me. One day, when my daughter was home, I put on the pearl necklace for dinner at a nice restaurant. “Where did you get that?” my daughter asked.
“You made it for me, remember?”
“Oh… yes. Why are you wearing it?”
“You were quite upset that I didn’t wear it when we went out eating dinner with friends, remember?” I said. I paused and then continued in a soft voice, “I told you I would wear it later.”
She giggled. “That’s embarrassing. Would you please take it off now?”