Maraya Steadman '89, '90 MBA | June 12, 2014 | Notre Dame Magazine
Sunday is Father’s Day. Despite the media onslaught, I did not realize this until my dad told me. I am faced with the decision that has haunted me since second grade, “What do I get my dad for Father’s Day?”
In the second grade I glued macaroni to a cigar box and spray painted it gold. Every time I needed money for the ice cream truck, I’d open up my dad’s top dresser drawer and there was my gold-painted box filled with spare change. As the years went by, most of the macaroni fell off, the paint faded and the lid needed some tape, but while I was growing up, the box was always there.