“So there’s six dollars and sixty cents left over,” Noah said, pulling up his white athletic socks.

“That six dollars and sixty cents stays right in the cafeteria account for next week,” I said, pointing to the bottom line on my receipt.

I dragged a black plastic milk crate out from under the kitchen sink and set it by the leg of the table.

The heavy plastic flexed in my hands when I dropped the first twenty rolls in.

“Are we taking these crates right to the principal tomorrow?” Noah asked.