Christina Currie: Time to hide the remote | CraigDailyPress.com
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Christina Currie: Time to hide the remote

Christine Currie

— I don’t know if it’s the news reports or the fact that my girls listen to adult conversations a little more closely than they should, but for being 7 and 8 years old, questions about finances come up a lot more often than I really expected at this point.

I’m going to blame television. And I think I have a good case for doing so.

Seven-year-old Nikki feels strong when she has money. She feels like she’s more in control. I’m impressed that she’s related the two.

Her desire has driven her to explore several entrepreneurial ideas in the past few months.

First, she contemplated the idea of a garage sale.

“If I sell my stuff, I get to keep the money, right?”

We’ll, it’s not exactly her stuff, but I refrained and told her “sure.”

Next thing I know, she’s got a pile of toys in the middle of her room, all marked with price tags. I checked the ear of a small, stuffed bunny.

“$12.”

Ouch.

She’s pricy.

I explained that yard sales don’t quite rake in the amount of cash she expected.

So, she decided that a lemonade stand and a yard sale were the way to go. Shortly after, she learned how many quarters it takes to make a dollar and that idea went on the back burner.

“I know a way to make money!” she told me excitedly while we were driving home one night.

“Get a job?” I suggested.

“No! I know a way to make money where you don’t have to do any work.”

I’m intrigued. Go on.

“Well, you need one of those machines that : that : ummmm. What are those things?”

I’m getting an inkling where she’s going with this.

“A copier?”

“No, that makes paper,” she said.

“A printing press?”

“Yes! That’s it. You get a printing press and put a dollar in and then you get scissors and cut the pages and then you have money.”

No, then you have a felony.

I explained that making money – at least the way she described – was illegal and would land you in jail for a very, very long time.

She was very, very disappointed.

“Where in the world did you get an idea like that anyway,” I asked.

She smiled, “Spongebob SquarePants.”

Kid’s show my butt.

I think it was the word jail that sparked the next question, this time from 8-year-old Katie.

“What’s juvie?”

“Where in the world did you learn that word?”

She smiled. “iCarly.”

Kid’s show my butt, indeed.

Seriously, if my kids keep getting ideas and asking these questions, I’m going to ban things like TV and school and time with friends.

Not really. I like that they’re asking questions. I like it even better that they’re asking me those questions and that I get to shape their view with my answers.

Oh God. I get to shape their view with my answers. That’s a hefty responsibility.

Maybe if I hide the remote now, I’ll have more time to think of good answers for the tough questions that are going to come.

Then again, I’m sure there’s a sitcom that will reenact this type of scenario, and I can steal their answers.

I’m kind of feeling that plan.

Now, if I could just find the remote.


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