When I was in 5th grade, everyone in our class had to write a poem about something they liked. These poems would be bound together into a book and distributed to each student, so that everyone's parents could read everyone else's poems.
Some people wrote about football, some about chess. One wrote about horseback riding. One about church. One about cartooning. One about the American flag.
What did I write about?
Money.
When I brought home the book to show my parents, they were horrified. Turns out they'd raised a spoiled brat. How embarrassing for them.
I can remember liking the poem at the time, and being proud of the detailed drawing of the $5 bill (including the serial number and Lincoln's beard). Now I think it looks like it was done by a psycho killer. Not so proud anymore.

(click on it to enlarge)