Dollars and Sense

“Dad, can I have an allowance?" my 9-year-old son asked.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering who in the world told him about allowances. Both my wife and I were doing our best to shelter him from such worldly matters. It is our belief that kids shouldn't learn about such things until they are too old to ask for them.

"What happened to your birthday money?" I asked, referring to the nearly two hundred dollars he had received from his relatives for his birthday last year.

"Dad, that money is long gone," he said, shaking his head as if I were a complete imbecile.

"Gone where?" I asked.

"l spent it on BIONICLES," he said.

"l guess we should give you an allowance so you give it to LEGO as well," I said.

"Dad, are you going to give me an allowance or not?" he asked, shooting me an evil look.

"What will you do to earn an allowance?" I asked, shooting him an even more evil look to prove my alpha male status.

"I'll clean my room," he said.

"Why would I suddenly start paying you for doing your chores?"

"I don't know, dad. it was worth a try”

"Well, when you figure it out, get back to me," I said.

As I walked away, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was comforting to know our money wouldn't be part of the millions kids in America give to the fine folks at LEGO.

"Our boy wants an allowance," I told my wife later that day.

"l know. He asked me yesterday."

"Should we give him one?" I asked.

"l don't see anything wrong with it. Do you?" she asked.

"l don't want to rob him of going out to rake leaves, mow lawns or shovel driveways to earn cash," I said, clinging to the belief that an allowance would rob him of entrepreneurial spirit.

"When was the last time any kid in this neighborhood earned money doing yard work?" she asked as she folded her arms.

"Fine. How much money are we talking?"

"l don't know, Vince.”

Unsure of what constituted a proper allowance, I hit the Internet in search of answers. According to the "experts," a proper allowance amount is one dollar for each year of the child's age.

Right off the bat I knew I didn't agree with the experts on the amount of money to give our son. For $9 a week, I'd expect him to tidy our home like his name was Cinderfella.

An allowance is an essential part of teaching kids to manage money, the experts claim. And while I didn't want to mess up my son's financial future, I feared a big allowance would do just that.

I shared the information and my thoughts with my wife. After much debate, we agreed upon $1 a week. A buck a week was more than I wanted to give and a lot less than my wife saw fit, but it was an amount we both could live with.

When told how much money he would receive, he looked at my wife and me incredulously and asked, "What can I do with a dollar?"

"Save it," I offered.

While insulted, but not stupid, my son settled for the one dollar a week. We began to dole out the allowance in January. He took his dollar each week and put it into his bank. After 8 weeks, I was impressed with his ability to save the money.

"Maybe there is something to this allowance thing," I said to my wife. "It's turned him into a saver."

What I didn't realize at the time was that my son was just biding his time until he had enough money to buy more BIONICLES. Only problem, the money started to burn a hole in his pocket before he had a sufficient amount.

Once he had $10 in his possession he started asking us to loan him a dollar against his next week's allowance. When we turned him down, he unsuccessfully sought loans from his younger siblings, who are still swimming in birthday cash.

As soon as the eleventh dollar was in my son's possession, he went nuts. "Can someone take me to Target?" he asked repeatedly.

My wife and I both looked at each other. Neither of us wanted to run out into the snow and ice that still covered the streets just so our boy could buy what he had dreamed of for weeks.

"I'm not sure having an allowance is teaching him how to manage money," I said to my wife.

"You have to crawl before you can walk," she said. "This was the first time he had to save up to buy something."

Still not convinced that saving up to buy toys is the big life lesson the experts make it out to be, I tried to assure myself that my son was taking the first steps toward learning delayed gratification, at least until I spotted him looking at the family calendar.

"Why are you messing with the calendar?" I asked.

"I'm counting down the days until my birthday," he said.

"Why?"

"An allowance is okay and all, but a birthday is where the big money is," he said. "I'll probably get three years worth of allowance this year."

Something tells me I should prepare for more than a single trip to Target.