In the 1970s and ‘80s back-to-school shopping meant a trip to Kmart or JCPenney (and usually right to the clearance rack).  Today, social media has upped the stakes, convincing kids that confidence depends on the right shoes, the right hoodie, and flawless skin.

Nathan was no exception. His confidence came with a hefty price tag. Back-to-school shopping was a full-time job in the art of negotiation. And to set the record straight- I always came out on the losing end of the debit card.

So when a good friend told me that it was okay to spoil our kids because we only have them for a short time before they become busy adults with families of their own, did I take that advice? Yes. Did I take it far beyond the intended message? Absolutely.

For months I saved money for those shopping trips. Watching Nathan’s face light up as he carrying bags full of new, school-worthy clothes, made every dollar worth it.

To the casual observer, those shopping trips probably looked like I had completely lost custody of my debit card. But perception is everything and nothing.

From the outside looking in, Nathan was just another “spoiled” kid with perfectly coiffed hair, a subtle scent of expensive cologne, and designer labels from head-to-toe. But that was only the wrapping.

Beneath his carefully curated packaging was a heart that shone brighter than anything he wore.

Nathan knew his best friend would never have the same back-to-school shopping opportunity. Without telling anyone (not even me), he quietly used half his budget with him in mind. Then, when those clothes were inevitably “borrowed,” Nathan knew damn well he would never get them back—and that was exactly the point. He had picked out every hoodie, shirt, and pair of jeans knowing they would eventually live in his best friend’s closet.

We spend so much time worrying about grades, sports, jobs, bills, and simply surviving that we sometimes overlook the remarkable human beings we’re raising. So, as the dreaded back-to-school shopping season quickly approaches, filled with clown-sized jeans, car-payment-priced shoes, and hoodies destined for 95^o weather, before announcing (embarrassingly loud), “I’m not taking out a second mortgage for this”, take a solid minute to see really see your kid.

Not the price tag. Not the trend. The kid standing in front of you.

One day you’ll forget what those shoes cost, but you’ll remember the smile when they found the pair they couldn’t stop talking about.