I still remember the first time I ever clocked into work for the first time.

I had done jobs here and there and went to the store to help my dad on Saturdays to sell tacos just to put a little bit of money in my pocket.

I was cute, plus I was a hard worker. It wasn’t too hard to get a few extra bucks from the older ladies that thought I was adorable.

This situation was different. I had my official card to swipe at the machine.

I was going to be paying taxes.

I was going to be working on my own and creating my name.

I wasn’t going to hear about how my dad was “the man” around the store anymore.

I did what I was taught to do.

Move.

I moved at all costs.

There were days I would run and rush to help the next guest because Lord forbid they have to wait to get checked out, or they had to pick something out of the merch counter.

I guess I should point out that my first official job was Chuck E. Cheese.

Yea, I dressed up as the mouse pretty frequently. That was the proper way to have your first day.

For me, it happened more often than not because, well, I just didn’t know how to say no. (I still kind of suck at that) Do you know that people can’t tell if you’re smiling when you have a mouse mask on your head? I didn’t know that the first time.

I went 30 minutes walking around and smiling for every picture.

Finally, I realized that nobody could tell whether I was with the biggest grin or rolling my eyes behind the costume.

I can go on about how terrible it was to be wiping down all the tables I did, the playpens I wiped down, and the restrooms, which were a waste.

I don’t think I ever worked harder physically than that week in my life.

For months I would go on and work the same way, but that first week, before getting an actual paycheck, was something special.

I would have worked off the clock for a ton of hours if nobody would’ve told me that was stupid.

Even after all the hard work, I put in, that first paycheck came out to be about 360 dollars.

For a sixteen-year-old kid, that was pretty good, though. Especially being that I didn’t have many bills to worry about.

Naturally, the first thing that came to my mind was my parents.

I wanted to frame my check. Maybe keep it up. I didn’t want to deposit that.

Then I remembered how my parents must’ve felt when they got their first check.

Probably not as privileged as me. They had to worry about paying for all the living expenses.

The paycheck for them was the difference between paying rent and not.

For me, it was all about going to the movies and buying extra clothes I did not need.

So I gave it to them.

Still one of my proudest accomplishments.