Fun With Learning About Money

Recently, I got the Son of Never Stops Eating a debit card.  I figured it was time for him to start learning how to manage his money on a debit card, since no one carries cash anymore, and it would be a useful life skill.  Before we actually acquired the plastic rectangle, I sat down with him and explained that just because you have a debit card, that doesn't necessarily mean you have enough money to buy your heart's desires, like a large banana snow cone or a Simpsons Lego Set.

Mom, I know what to do, he told me, rolling his eyes. I know the rules. If I don't have any money in my account, I can't buy anything. And I won't lose it. And I won't give it to my sister or anyone else except you because you're my mom.

OK. It appeared that we had the basics down.

So we went and set up the account. Then we had to wait for the debit card to arrive, and the waiting was excruciating.  I hadn't thought he'd be that excited about having a debit card, but apparently I'd misjudged the situation because he was really looking forward to it, which made me start to wonder if he'd really understood the whole "just because you have a debit card, that doesn't mean you actually have money" thing.

After it arrived, I quickly realized that I hadn't completely thought this process through. For one thing, he now wanted to know the balance on his debit card every time we left the house. Since he doesn't have a smartphone, he couldn't check it on his mobile device. Mental note: maybe it's time to get him a phone that does more than call and text.

Then we went to church and heard a sermon about God and love and how we need to love other people. I wasn't really sure if The Son of Never Stops Eating was listening or not; at one point he had leaned over and told me that Marge Simpson gets cranky because the other people in the Simpsons family don't like to go to church, especially Homer, and Homer sleeps a lot in church just like the Grandpa of No, and that he wanted to be sure that I noticed that he was not being like Bart; he was actually being good and not playing tricks on the other churchgoers or plotting evil deeds.

We needed to buy hamster bedding, so after church we went over to the pet store.  I had put some money on the debit card, so I told the Son of Never Stops Eating that he could practice using his debit card by buying the hamster bedding. All of a sudden he was worried about how much it would cost; apparently once the money left my account and went into his it became a much more valuable commodity.

Don't worry, I told him.  You have enough to buy the bedding.

So we picked out the bedding, and proceeded to the checkout line, and the sweet cashier rang it up and then asked him if he'd like to donate money to homeless pets.  He hadn't anticipated that question so he looked a bit confused as to what to do next.

You don't have to donate, I told him. It's okay if you don't. They ask everyone that question.

But Mom, he said, God wants us to help other people and love other people and animals too.

So then I felt like a horrible person, because I always say no when cashiers ask me if I want to donate to charity, and also because I'd spent the last hour assuming that he was thinking about the Simpsons and what Lego kit he was going to buy next when apparently he'd actually been paying attention to the sermon.  Then the Son of Never Stops Eating found out the minimum donation was $2, and that was going to seriously cut into his remaining funds.  He looked stricken.  The cashier then offered a compromise: he could round up to the next whole dollar amount, so he was still helping homeless pets, but he didn't have to spend all his money.

When we got back in the car, I emphasized that he didn't have to donate every time someone asked him if he wanted to, although he could if he wanted- but he needed to be sure that he had enough money to buy what he needed to buy.  I know, I know, he said; you aren't made of money. Maybe your boss should pay you more and then you'd have more money. I laughed at that.  If only it were that easy.

But Mom, don't you want me to help homeless pets? he asked. They're so cute! and then a few minutes later, Do I have enough money on my debit card to go buy a snow cone?

So we are going to keep working on this debit card skill.  I know he'll get it eventually; he's motivated.  I'm just wondering how much money I'll be indirectly donating to homeless pets.