I had a billion things to worry about after the abrupt announcement that I was going to be heading up a single-parent household.

Buying the Pokémon Diamond or Pearl Game Boy game wasn't really a priority.

A master of poor timing, my 11-year-old asked about it as we were literally moving our computers and clothes out of our home (temporarily). I remember the conversation vividly. I had just carried a computer monitor out of the apartment when he stopped me at the doorstep to ask if we could stop at the game store.

I wasn't as patient with him as I might have been, had I not been emotionally distraught and carrying a largish piece of computer equipment. Instead of saying "no," or "we'll talk about it later," I gave him a mini-lecture about how we're going to have to start spending money more wisely.

It's true, but I guess the way that I broke the news has caused him undue anxiety.

The message that I meant to convey was that video games are a luxury we'll have to indulge in less often.

The message he heard was that we were going to be struggling to survive.

Since then, he's asked me several times if I am capable of being a single mom. I'm starting to fear that he's going to start trying to find a potential mate for me from one of the multiplayer games he plays online.

It took me a while to pick up the subtle hints he was giving me about his financial worries.

At a takeout sushi joint, he noticed a "help wanted" sign and asked me if I thought they'd hire him and how much they paid. I jokingly asked if he wanted to help me pay the rent. He seriously said yes.

He's 11!

Then he depleted his Nintendo DS Lite savings to buy birthday presents for his sister because he was afraid that I couldn't afford to get her everything she wanted.

The episodes were so disjointed that I didn't realize that there was a serious problem until this morning when he wouldn't let me buy him a $1.50 musubi and for the second day in a row refused to accept snack money for the break between his classes.

I would have chalked it up as not being hungry, except that as soon as his sister announced she was done with her musubi, he gobbled up the remainder.

I really hope he doesn't think that we can't afford to buy food.

For the last several months, I've been thinking of all the things I would do differently if I could go back in time.

Doing a better job at reassuring my son that we'll be OK currently tops the list.

Reach Treena Shapiro at tshapiro@honoluluadvertiser.com.