The Spoiled Kid in School I Want a Scooter!

In every school, there is often that one kid who seems to have everything handed to them on a silver platter. Their peers may regard them with a mix of admiration and envy, but the truth is, being the spoiled kid isn't always as glamorous as it seems. I experienced this firsthand when I found myself in a similar situation – wanting a scooter, just like everyone else, but feeling the pressure of the expectations that came with my privileged status.

Max, the so-called spoiled kid in our school, embodied everything that comes to mind when we think of someone who has it all. His parents showered him with gifts, whether it be the latest phone or trendy sneakers. However, it wasn’t until he started talking about getting a new scooter that I realized the implications of being known as spoiled.

On a sunny Friday, the school buzzed with excitement as students shared plans for the weekend. I sat in the cafeteria, listening to Max excitedly describe his dream scooter – bright yellow with flashy wheels that would surely make him the envy of the playground. “I bet my dad will get it for me by next week,” he bragged to a group of classmates. Instantly, a mix of admiration and jealousy stirred within me.

As I observed the reactions of my friends, I felt the weight of my own desires bearing down on me. I had always wanted a scooter, a simple one that would let me zoom around the neighborhood, feel the wind in my hair, and share thrilling rides with my friends. However, I hesitated because I worried it would further cement my image as the spoiled kid. What if everyone thought I was just trying to compete with Max?

Days passed, and Max's anticipation grew while I secretly yearned for my own scooter. Instead of approaching my parents and expressing my wishes, I found myself crafting excuses in my mind. “Maybe if I wait long enough, they’ll surprise me,” I thought. But deep down, I knew that wouldn’t happen. My parents were always supportive, but I had never asked them for something simply because I wanted it. It made me question if I was too spoiled myself.

The following week, Max arrived at school riding his brand-new scooter. As he zoomed past us, the bright yellow paint gleamed under the sun, and laughter erupted from our friends. They crowded around him, eager to take turns riding and expressing their admiration. I stood back, feeling a pang of jealousy. Part of me wanted to congratulate him, but another part felt ashamed for wanting something materialistic. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being labeled, and that sentiment overshadowed my desire for a scooter.

A month later, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I approached my parents one evening after dinner and confessed my desire for a scooter. I expressed how much I wanted the freedom it provided, and also how it would allow me to join my friends in their fun outings. To my surprise, my parents were supportive and encouraged me to save some of my allowance to contribute toward the purchase. This was a vital lesson wanting something didn’t make me spoiled; rather, it showed I was capable of setting goals and working toward them.

The following month, I proudly stood in the local store and picked out my very own scooter. It was a sleek blue model with a matte finish that reflected my personality perfectly. As I rode it around the neighborhood for the first time, I felt liberated. The laughter and joy I shared with my friends were genuine, not overshadowed by the need to keep up with someone else’s image.

In the end, being the so-called spoiled kid doesn’t define worth or happiness. It taught me that desire is natural, and pursuing what brings you joy is important. While Max had his flashy scooter, my pride in earning mine was immeasurable. The experience emphasized that what truly matters is not the object itself, but the relationships built and the lessons learned along the way. Thus, it became clear being spoiled is not about the things you have, but rather about being genuine in your pursuit of happiness.