The following essay has been written for Mommybloggers.com by our friend EverydaySuperGoddess.

After spending a few days out of town last summer, my two pre-teen daughters, a.k.a., the Demigoddesses, and I returned home to find a surprise buried in the pile of mail that awaited us. It was a letter from Kraft/Cub Foods, and it was addressed to Demigoddess the Younger.

“Congratulations! Thanks for entering the 2005 Football Party Sweepstakes! You have won a $100 gift check to Cub Foods!”

Our grocery store always has some kind of drawing going on, and the Demis enter them all the time, but previous to this the only thing they’d ever won was an enormous pumpkin one October. That pumpkin was so big that both Demis (who were much smaller then) could sit on top of it with their feet up. We only had it for a few days until Halloween night, when it disappeared from our front step. I’m pretty sure I saw its smashed remains a couple of blocks away the next morning.

The Demigoddesses had apparently entered this particular drawing around Super Bowl time, although none of us had any recollection of it. Who cares that it had taken Kraft/Cub Foods six months to award our prize? This was WAY better than a giant pumpkin.

We were coming off a very difficult year, financially speaking. For months I had been working a second job at night and on weekends in addition to my regular, full-time one, trying to get us back on our feet. The noose had loosened a great deal, but at the time, $100 was still a considerable contribution toward our monthly grocery budget. Having grown accustomed to stretching every last penny farther than any penny can reasonably be expected to stretch, I seriously considered confiscating the gift check and using it to fill our kitchen with sensible, practical things like milk and bread and foods that I could make into dinners for the three of us. But it had been a long time since I’d been able to provide the Demis with anything beyond the absolute necessities, a fact which bothered me much more than the indignities of a part-time job in retail.

Naw, I thought. They deserve to have some fun.

So we left our unpacking for later and drove to Cub Foods. Still doubting the wisdom of turning $100 over to 11- and 13-year-old girls, I didn’t completely trust myself to remain hands-off. I let the Demis take control of the cart and followed along behind, preparing to work hard at keeping my mouth shut and bracing myself for their choices. I had a bad feeling we’d end up with a kitchen full of Pop Rocks and fajita-flavored Fritos.

As it turned out, though, I needn’t have worried. They chose fresh blueberries, mangoes, a cucumber, salad mix, and fruit leather. Into the cart went a gallon of milk (okay, chocolate milk, but milk nonetheless) and several containers of yogurt. They even picked up brown sugar, flour, and chocolate chips so they could bake cookies.

Of course, there was also a solid variety of junk food, including three flavors of pop, ice cream, a box of Twinkies, two kinds of potato chips, and beef jerky. Somehow Demigoddess the Younger even found a Barbie doll that she had been wanting. But overall I was very impressed at how well-balanced their choices turned out to be. More than once, they urged me to pick something for myself, but I was having too much fun observing them to shop for anything.

That is, until we hit the cookie aisle and I saw one of my favorite splurges. A luxury I hadn’t had in a long, long time. My singular contribution to the cart became one package of Marshmallow Pinwheel cookies.

By the time they were finished, the only item from the whole trip that I could have made into something like dinner was three boxes of macaroni and cheese. But it didn’t matter any more. Watching them dance around in the aisles choosing things to buy for themselves was worth every penny of that $100.

On the way to the store, Demigoddess the Younger had said what I’d already been thinking. “It really would have been better if we had gotten this gift certificate last year when we were so poor.”

I agreed, but pointed out that this way they could spend it on fun things instead of necessities.

She asked me, “What was the worst time of your life, ever?”

I said, “Last year.”

“Because you had to file bankruptcy?”

“That was the easy part. The hard part was trying to keep food in the refrigerator when we had no money. The hard part was telling you girls that you couldn’t go to camp, and knowing you both needed glasses and I had no idea how I was going to pay for them.”

She was quiet for several moments, and then said, “That makes me want to cry. Let’s not talk about it any more.”

After that, the whole time we were shopping, and even after we got home and were putting away our bonanza of bounty, she kept hugging and kissing me and telling me what a great mom I am.

If she and her sister are any indication, then I’d have to agree that I haven’t done too badly.

Read more from the talented EverydaySuperGoddess.