I'm Going to Keep It
My four-year-old son, Paul, is probably the only kid in America who reads The Wall Street Journal. I'm kidding of course. He can't read yet. He makes me read it to him.
Paul has the mind of an accountant. His money mindedness started innocently enough. When he was two, he began asking for some of the change when my wife and I were buying things. A penny here, a nickel there. Then, two years later, I found Paul counting his pile of coins.
“I have $102 dollars,” he said.
I thought it was cute that he was pretending to count his money. Then I noticed that he was putting the quarters in piles of four.
“How did you know that four quarters make a dollar?” I asked.
“Mom told me,” he said. “Ten dimes make a dollar, too.”
“What are you going to do with all that money,” I gasped.
“Keep it,” he said. “I'm going to keep it.”
Alms to the Poor
That's the same answer he gave when his preschool teacher asked him what he would do if he found a pot of gold. While the other preschoolers were busy imagining the candy and toys they would buy with their pots of gold, Paul was saving for retirement.
Actually, Paul didn't keep all of his coins. He decided to invest in real estate. Unfortunately, the real estate was our house.
One day when I came home from work, Paul said, “See my new desk.”
“That's Mom's desk,” I corrected.
“It's mine now,” Paul said. “I paid her ten dollars for it.”
That's what I get for leaving my wife without any money. I'm just glad she didn't sell my computer to him.
Paul's banking proficiency made it difficult for us to teach him the concept of giving alms to the poor this Lent. Our family had a cardboard box in which we put a quarter each time we skipped a snack or dessert. The money we collected we gave to the poor. Paul's implementation of our Lenten program would have impressed even an Enron executive.
Finding a Few Loopholes
“I get to put a quarter in the box,” Paul said on the first day of Lent.
“What did you give up?” I asked.
“I gave up a snack,” he said.
“What snack? I just saw you finish a bag of pretzels.”
“I didn't eat any ice cream,” Paul answered.
“We don't have any ice cream,” I said.
“But, if we did, I wouldn't have eaten it, so I ate pretzels instead,” Paul justified. “I get to put in a quarter for not eating the ice cream we didn't have.”
“You didn't eat any cookies either,” I added sarcastically.
“Thanks for reminding me,” he said. “I'll put two quarters in the box.”
Now that Lent is over and April's here, maybe Paul can help me with my taxes. I'm sure he can find a few loopholes.
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