Rating: K
Mrs. Benson remembered Freddie's first camera.
He sent in the box tops with more zeal than she had ever seen in a six year old. Every time at the grocery store, her little boy would grab that cereal box advertising the free child's camera once their bribe of thirty box tops was satisfied.
Little Freddie ate that cereal until he was sick, trying to empty the box so she would buy another.
"Are you sure you want this brand again?" she would ask him going down the cereal aisle. She saw him sneak a look at the Frosted Flakes, his favorite before seeing the promise of a camera on the front of this cereal box.
"Yeah!" he nodded his head, grabbing a box from the shelf.
Finally, she helped him count how many box tops he had… one… two… three… four… and so on until he reached thirty!
He jumped up, grabbing an envelope from his mother's desk (with her permission of course) and putting them safely into it, making sure not to bend nor tear them. He had been very careful with his box tops since the beginning of this whole thing.
About nine days of Freddie checking the front desk for his package after school, a medium sized box arrived, announcing that it was for Fredward Benson. He squealed with delight when it was placed in his hands and opened it right in the lobby.
And there was his first camera, an orange and blue child's camera. It was worth what she spent on batteries for it to see the smile on his face when he took his first picture. Of course, that picture was of his mom.