Intro
There’s one thing you need to know before you read this story: at-home birthday parties suck!
While most of my friends are having their birthday parties at cool places where you can fight with laser guns, jump like maniacs, or play tons of cool games, my mom decided that this year I would get only a “small and cozy” birthday party with just family members. That means the only gifts I will most likely get (as predicted by my parents’ past behavior) are the so-called “food for thought” gifts—books!
I do like books, but they’re obviously not the ideal birthday gift for a kid. However, so as not appear as a jerk who doesn’t appreciate his parents’ “thoughtful” gifts, I tried my best to squeeze out a big smile when Mom handed me a pile of gift-wrapped books and said, “We thought you might enjoy these the most!”
While I flipped through the pages of one of the books, a sentence just slipped out of my mouth.
“Oh, I wish I were loaded!”
Yeah… I was dreaming of $$$s, and a tidal wave of toys rushing in…
Just at that moment, Mommy (yes, I still call my mom “Mommy,” big deal!) shouted, “Pel, can you take out the trash?”
“But it’s my birthday!” I protested.
“So?” Mommy was glued to her smartphone and didn’t even look up. But I guess she took pity on me, because she added, “Okay then, I’ll give you five more dollars for this week’s allowance.”
Only five bucks? I thought to myself, Man, when will I ever have enough money to buy all the Legos and Pokémon cards I want?
All of a sudden, the doorbell rang. I went to answer it.
It was Grandma and Grandpa, smiling and happy as always.
I immediately noticed, with great disappointment, that they had come empty-handed. I had been hoping they’d be holding that giant Lego Mindstorms box that they promised me a while ago.
I was really upset now. “Lamest birthday ever!” I grumbled.
It wasn’t until after the cake time that Grandma slowly took out an envelope from her purse. She handed it to me. “Happy birthday, Pel!”
I opened the envelope. There was a check inside. A check for five hundred dollars.
“Use the money wisely!” Grandma said with a smile.
My eyes lit up. “Dad, can we go buy that Lego Mindstorms box this afternoon?”
“Didn’t Grandma just say use the money wisely?” Mom said. “Besides, you just got a new Lego set last week!”
“Okay, then how am I supposed to use this money ‘wisely’?” I asked.
“Why don’t you invest it,” Dad said. “Let the money grow.” He winked. “That means you can buy even more toys later!”
As much as I wanted that Lego Mindstorms box, I liked the idea of more toys even better. “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,” I said. “Let’s do it!” I flapped and twirled my wings in excitement. “But how?”
“How about we invest in stocks?” Dad replied.
Chapter 1: Stocks
“Stocks?” I asked. “What is a stock?”
“Well…” Dad thought for a second. “You can think of a stock as a piece of paper. In fact, it used to be exactly that. Nowadays it’s a record in computers.”
He continued, “When you purchase a stock, you get a stock paper, or certificate, as evidence that you now own a part of a business. For instance, if you buy Coca-Cola stock, you own part of Coca-Cola.”
“Does that mean I can drink as much Coke as I want for free?” I said with excitement.
Dad chuckled. “Not exactly. But you sure can buy a lot of Coke with the money you make from investing in the stock. I tell you what. To learn more about the business that issues the stock, I’m going to take you on a visit to the Coca-Cola company!”
The old eagle already had an action plan in mind. That’s just my dad, the action guy in the house.
“Wait, we’re going right now?” I asked.
“Um, yeah!” Dad started packing up.
Mom immediately blurted out, “What? Why can’t you two just stay here to discuss stocks?”
As my parents were discussing, I started packing the essentials—which meant grabbing all the snacks and drinks within easy reach.
“I’m ready for the trip,” I reported back as I took a swig of Gatorade.
The three of us took to the sky with all the baggage on our backs. The trip took hours. It felt so unbelievably long that my wings felt like they were going to crack! But when we arrived, Dad looked like he didn’t have a single drop of sweat.
“Okay gang, we’re finally here!” he said. And we walked into the Coke factory.
Mom saw me guzzling down a bottle of Coke. “Pel? “Where did you get the Coke?”
“Nowhere…” I said nervously. (Flashback: When we entered the Coke factory, a kid in the crowd asked me how big my throat pouch was, so I asked him to test it out by putting his Coke bottle in it.)
“Pel, you promised me less sugar and more broccoli!” Mom reminded me.
“No way! Not broccoli!” I replied.
“What about cauliflower then?” Sometimes Mom just wouldn’t let go of a topic.
“Cauliflower is just an ugly brother of broccoli from another mother!” I whined.
Mom grinded her teeth and crossed her arms. That made me feel a little bad, so I promised that I would eat more broccoli when we got home, and that made her a little happier.
“Hey, guys, what’s going on over there? Let’s go buy tickets!” Dad said in a cheerful tone.
We got into a humongous line trying to get tickets from the ticket booth. It was almost an hour before we finally got inside!
There were Coke machines everywhere, and a worker patrolling and welcoming guests.
I went straight up to the guy and said, “Hi, my man, how do I know I’ll make money if I invest in your company’s stock?”
“I’m sorry,” Mom interjected, “my son is awfully rude.”
The worker looked amused. “It’s okay, ma’am.”
Then he looked back at me. “I see you’re interested in stocks. Um, if I get your question right, you’re asking whether our stock is a good investment. Well, we have a lot of happy customers. People love our products.”
“Right,” I said, sipping on a cup of Cherry Coke. I tried to sound more serious. “I have some birthday money that I’m considering investing in Coke stock. How would Coke use my money, and how would I get it back?”
“Good questions, young man,” said the worker. “The company will use your money to fund our business activities, and when we make a profit, you, as the stock owner, will share part of that profit.”
I was puzzled. “Profit? What’s that?”
“A profit simply means we make more money than we spend,” the worker replied.
I took out the $500 check from my pocket and handed it to the worker. “Okay then. Here’s my birthday money. I’d like to buy your stock, please.”
The worker, Mommy, and Dad all laughed!