The peoples, houses

I only had less then hundred newspapers to deliver that day, and usually it only takes about half an hour.But not that day, with my son around, every step took longer.
I was exhausted from saying "hurry up son, faster son".And of course he never listened. He was in his own world, and he never stop talking.
At every house we where passing by ,he would stand and ask" Dad,who's house is this" ?
"It,s people,s house son" I replied.
"People,s ? "My son asked
" Yes son people,s " i replied.
we passed a couple houses and he stops again " so who,s house is this one" my son asked.
" This belongs to people as well son" i replied.
"This belongs to people too?" he asked
"Yes this one too, come on we only have a few left hurry up" i replied.
When we got to the next house .my son stooped , with big eyes, and one hand on his wrist, he stood in front of a big house and asked me "then who's house is this ? this big one ?
" god damn why this kid asks so many questions" i said to myself.
"All these houses belong to people OK son, !" please don't ask again .
"All of them,?! but how com people has all these houses" my son asked with his big wondering brown eyes.
I stopped . He made me laugh. I just understood where he was coming from.My son was thinking that, people is this monster who gets to own all these big and beautiful houses. I wanted to tell him that, people is a combination of individuals and it's not just one person,just like he and i,We are part of people.But then i realized it would just create more questions.Besides i was afraid he would ask "if you are part of people how come you don't have a big house like people ?" I just did not want to deal with that .I just wanted to deliver the papers.
I was thinking in these terms when he suddenly stood and looked at me up and down and said:
"Dad"
"yes son " i replied
" how come you don't have many houses?"
"Huh" was all i could say.
"all you have is one, and it,s dark and does not have a yard" My son continued.
At that time, we where living in queen Anne hill in a basement of an apartment .where ,we had to have the lights on even through the day, and all the other houses around us were big and beautiful with all kind of trees and flowers in their yard.
"Yeah dad, why don,t you have big houses
The subject was growing and i had no desire to continue it, it was best to change the subject at this point.
Babak,Babak, come here son. Look at this cat relaxing by the window, isn`t it beautiful? Look son, it's so pretty, it wants be your friend' i can tell.I said.
He jumped up and down and stopped facing to the cat ,behind the window and start meowing.

Success, I was able to change the subject.
My son is eight years old now,but i can easily say he understands as well as i ,when i was in my fourteen.

It was just last week when i took him to the tax office to preppier my tax forms.
On the way back ,he was sitting in the front seat he was so quiet, and it was unusual ,so he got me wondering, i looked at him , he was into deep thoughts. I called his name not once, not twice but few times. I poked him on his shoulder "hey bobby are you with us?
He looked at me and i asked him again.
" Son, what are you thinking about?"
"I am thinking about you Dad"
"Me"?
"Yes,because you know dad, you are really poor"
I was shocked ! What did he mean? what did he ask me and i could not provide? I thought hard and i could not come up with anything
"What do you mean i am poor, son?
"Because every question that man asked you , your answer was ,no ,my son said.
I just remembered the tax office incident.
"Do you own a house"?
-No
"Do you own a land"?
-No
"Do you own a farm"?
-No
"Miscellanies income"?
-No
"Saving account"?
-No
Somehow I felt sorry for myself. Of course not for my poverty , but because I was the subject of pity. Especially by my little son."Because you are really poor daddy"
I held his hand squeezing in my hand.There were tears in my eyes,and Wished, I could change the subject again.