Child Slavery

The other day Sam said with conviction, "I have to do EVERYTHING around here!" He looked so sullen and pathetic as he said it that I almost felt sorry for him. I suddenly had a vision of him in a sweatshop in Indonesia rolling ciragrettes all day while sitting cross-legged on a concrete floor. No breaks. No food. No water. And then I remembered what promted his comment in the first place. I asked him to clear his breakfast plate off the table and take it to the sink. The breakfast I made. His plate that I cleaned. The jammies with syrup on them that I would surely wash. Now who's the slave?