I Forgot to Leave Lunch Money for My Son, but He Said, 'Don't Worry, Mom. I'll Look in the Cereal Box Where Dad Hides It'

After Jess forgets to leave lunch money for her son, Caleb, he reveals that there is hidden cash in a cereal box. How? Why? The family has been having money problems, so why would her husband keep this from her? Jess tries to find out the truth.

The morning started badly before I even left the house.

I mean, I was up before sunrise, my head still heavy from little sleep. Running the morning shift as head baker was tiring enough, but with my second job later that day, I was barely holding together.

All I could think about was the long list of tasks ahead: paying bills, shopping, doing laundry, making breakfast, and more. But halfway through shaping dough, it suddenly hit me.

I had forgotten to give lunch money to my son, Caleb.

I muttered a swear under my breath and wiped the flour from my hands, grabbing my phone. Just as I did, it lit up with a message from Caleb.

My stomach sank instantly. Instead of replying to his message, I called him. I needed to hear his voice and confirm I had made a mistake.

"Hi, Mom," Caleb’s voice was soft, too soft for a twelve-year-old who should be worried about his favorite game, not lunch money. "I texted you. There’s no money for lunch today."

I leaned against the counter, feeling guilty. I already felt bad that I hadn't made Caleb homemade sandwiches and that he had to eat cafeteria food instead. Lately, I kept forgetting things, struggling to keep up.

"Caleb, I’m so sorry," I said. "I completely forgot. I just wanted to finish the laundry before leaving."

Recently, it seemed like everything was slipping away. Especially the important things. I wanted to cry about the batch of babka I was making.

"It’s okay, Mom!" Caleb responded calmly. "I’ll check the cereal box where Dad hides money. I don’t need much anyway."

I froze.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know, the cereal box," he repeated. "The Cheerios? Dad keeps money there sometimes. Sometimes inside the box, sometimes underneath."

For a moment, I didn't know how to reply. My husband hiding money? I nearly asked Caleb to explain further but stopped myself. I didn’t want to cause trouble before Caleb finished his school day.

"Alright," I said. "You do that! I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Love you!"

"Love you too!" Caleb chirped before hanging up, leaving me standing by the bakery counter, my mind spinning.

A cereal box with cash inside? In my pantry? Why?

I could hardly focus on the rest of my shift. My hands worked automatically as I removed loaves from the oven, but my mind was racing.

How long had Marcus been hiding money? And why? We were barely making ends meet, every dollar carefully budgeted. I had bought Caleb new sneakers from a discount store because Marcus said that we didn't have enough money.

We were behind on bills, the car needed repairs, and I was working two jobs just to keep us afloat. I was the head baker at the bakery, and after my shift, I went to the 24-hour deli nearby to make sandwiches.

It was exhausting. My back hurt more than it ever had during pregnancy.

How could Marcus hide money and not tell me?

The bakery closed for the day, and I headed to the deli, still overwhelmed by Caleb’s words. All I could think about was the envelope in the cereal box and how I had no idea it was there.

When I finally returned home that evening, I didn’t bother taking off my shoes. I went straight into the pantry, my heart pounding. Sure enough, there it was: an envelope beneath the cereal box.

I took it out with trembling hands.

Inside was more money than I had seen in months. Hundreds, maybe more.

It wasn't just Caleb’s lunch fund for when I forget. It was enough to pay for the car repairs, the rent, and probably several bills.

I looked at the cash, trying to understand everything.

Marcus had been hiding this all along while I was working long hours, thinking we were about to spiral into trouble.

I could have called Marcus, but I heard him on the phone in the study. It sounded like he was in a meeting, and I didn’t want to interrupt.

Instead, I prepared some fish with broccoli and tomatoes on a baking sheet. I needed to feed Caleb.

Dinner was strained. I could hardly look at Marcus without feeling angry, but I didn’t confront him.

Not yet.

I needed to see how far he’d go.

I kept my voice steady when I brought up the car.

"We need to check the transmission, Marcus," I said. "It’ll only get worse."

Marcus didn’t look up from his plate. Instead, he poured hot sauce over his fish.

"We’ll have to wait," he replied. "We don’t have the money right now."

I froze, staring at him. He said it so casually, as if the stash in the cereal box didn't exist. As if he believed that. Something inside me broke.

The next morning, after my shift at the bakery, I did something I never expected.

I called a luxury spa and booked a full makeover—hair, nails, massage, everything. It was impulsive and reckless, but I didn’t care. The money was there, and I was going to spend it.

The day felt unreal.

While the stylist worked on my hair, I kept thinking about the envelope, the sleepless nights worrying about bills, kneading dough before dawn, and the ache in my back.

And there was Marcus, seemingly calm, sitting on enough cash to fix everything.

When I got home, I hardly recognized myself.

My hair was styled into soft waves, and my nails were painted dark red. I looked like I had everything under control, not someone barely getting by.

Marcus came home, eyes widening when he saw me.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I found the money in the cereal box," I said. "I needed a break."

He looked frozen.

"You shouldn’t have used that. It wasn’t meant for this."

Anger bubbled up again.

"What was it for then, Marcus? Because I’ve been working nonstop, thinking we’re struggling, while you’ve been hiding a secret stash I never knew about."

He looked down.

"Jess, I wasn’t trying to hide it. I just… I didn’t want you to worry."

"Worry about what?" I demanded. "That’s all I do, worry all the time. About everything!"

He sat down, rubbing his face.

"My boss hinted there might be layoffs soon. I wanted to have some money set aside, just in case. I didn’t want to talk about something that might not happen."

I was stunned.

"So, you lied to me?"

"I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you."

Marcus and I had always been honest, or at least, I thought we were. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Still, I felt hurt.

He looked at me with a softer expression.

"We’re supposed to be open with each other, Marcus. You should have trusted me enough to tell me."

He nodded.

"I’m sorry," he said.

"Do you even realize how this looks? I thought we were broke, working two jobs, while you hide money for some imaginary disaster. How could you keep that from me?"

He looked uncomfortable.

"I didn’t want to make things worse," he said. "I thought keeping it quiet would be easier."

"Was this easier for you, Marcus?" I yelled.

He didn’t answer.

"And what if you lose your job tomorrow? Are you planning to pull out your secret stash and say, ‘By the way, I’ve been saving this all along’?"

He looked guilty.

"No… maybe. I don’t know. I just wanted to protect you."

"You don’t protect me by keeping me in the dark," I told him.

I saw that my words had made some impact. But I wasn’t sure he truly understood how I felt.

I wasn’t sure he got it.

"Are we a team, Marcus? Or not?" I asked.

"We are, Jess," he said. "I swear we are."

We sat quietly for a moment, the tension hanging in the air. Gradually, I started to calm down. Marcus had made a mistake, but I could tell he hadn’t meant to hurt me. Still, I was upset.

We had a long road ahead of us to rebuild trust.

The next morning, I promised him I wouldn’t go through cereal boxes without asking, and he promised no more hiding money.

Even though we were struggling, at least now we faced it together.

Isn’t that right?

What would you have done?

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