Forks are Extra

I now believe my son to be an economic genius. I think he will rival Bill Gates one day in shrewd business savvy. I knew he had a gift for math, but now I can't wait to start teaching him more economic and financial things. It should be fun; I'm glad I got so much education in those areas myself. Now I have someone to teach it all to.

Here's what happened; about 2 hours after he moved into his new "apartment" it dawned on him that his plan had one big flaw. He didn't have a fridge and thus no place to store food. So he came back down and proposed a swap. Still not giving up, he suggested that he would move downstairs and make the kitchen/dining/family area his apartment and I could live upstairs in the bedrooms. He then embraced this idea with much enthusiasm as he also realized that gave him access to the TV and internet... lol.

After much discussion I got him to understand that these areas are "family" areas and belong to everyone and if he wanted to use them he had to agree to become part of the family again. He thought about it for a long time though, so I told him that maybe when he was older—like 10 or so—I would build him a bedroom downstairs and he could live there and my bedroom could be upstairs. His eyes danced with glee. I had planned to do that anyway. His room upstairs is tiny and right next to mine; eventually he will need more space. That was the deal closer, he agreed to be part of the family again.

Then I gave it some thought and decided that it might be a good time to do some more educating about money and how it all works. So I suggested to him that he could "earn" enough money to buy the ball he wanted. He was perplexed at first and asked "can you find a job for a 5 year old Mom?" I explained that since the next day was the nanny's day off he could do some of her work and I would pay him for it. He loved the idea. The next day he loaded the dishwasher himself, swept the floor, helped me with some Jungle Roses things and even made me lunch all by himself... and yes, it was not only edible, it was tasty. He got enough money to buy 2 balls he wanted.

We went back to the store and he picked out the balls, but noticed that they now had the Halloween decorations on display. We both love Halloween and he had to "check them out." I didn't see it, but they had strung a wire across the top of the isle that had a motion controlled ghostly thing that slid across it when someone walked down the isle. Yep, you know it. It brushed against my now bare neck in the back and I let out a blood boiling scream. Much to my son's delight; he thought that was the coolest thing ever!

When we got back home he added the balls to the collection he already has and explained that he "needed" those because they were a different color and questioned me with a "now do you understand Mom?" I said "okay" …sigh. He then told me that he wanted to keep working so he could make enough money to go back and buy the ghost that had scared me so much. He even showed me where he plans to hang it on the front porch. Sounds good to me, I can use the help too.

He made a list of jobs to do the next day. Included, of course, was making me lunch. He is quite the little Wolf Gang Puck. He loves to cook. And I found he especially likes to make things for me that he thinks are yucky, like salad. That day he made me a huge salad; even tossed it with dressing for me and the works. It looked wonderful. He brought it to me with water and curiously… a tiny spoon. I walked back into the kitchen and said "I need a fork." He blocked the silverware drawer with his stepstool and thus I needed him to move in order to get one. He said, "Mom, forks are 2 dollars." "What?" I said with surprise and a little bit of awe. He says "spoons are free, forks are 2 dollars." I about fell over. My 5 year old son somehow instinctively figured out the economic principle of scarcity and demand all on his own... I'm thrilled... lol

I paid the 2 extra dollars and ate my wonderful salad. By 10 I'm hoping to make him Vice President of Jungle Roses... he's bound to want his own office though and, no doubt, his own fridge.