Making Allowances

"How much allowance does Gloria get?" said Frances.
"She is too little to have an allowance," said Father. "Only big girls like you get allowances. Isn't it nice to be a big sister?"
"May I have a penny along with my nickel now that I am a big sister?" said Frances.
"Yes," said Father. "Now your allowance will be six cents a week because you are a big sister."
"Thank you," said Frances. "I know a girl who gets seventeen cents a week. She gets three nickels and two pennies."
"Well," said Father. "It's time for bed now."

- excerpt from A Baby Sister for Frances by Russell Hoban

We're big Frances fans around here, starting from my own childhood and now passing the joy along to my children. When I read this story to Aidan yesterday -- and this passage in particular -- I knew there would be an immediate ensuing discussion about the topic of an allowance.

Sure enough, it came, and I explained to Aidan what having an allowance entailed. It's about responsibility, growing up. I gave him an example -- if he did a chore every day, like feeding the dog, then at the end of the week he could get an allowance, some money to thank him for a job well done. Let's say a quarter (am I that behind in the times?). His eyes lit up (thankfully he has no concept of what "the times" are). And after four weeks, I said, it would add up to a dollar. He sucked in his breath.

"I want an allowance," he said. Well, that's fine -- but he has to do a chore first, and do it every day. No skipping, no getting bored, no whining. He thought he could feed Jack every day -- at least in the mornings, since he's not home yet from school when Jack gets his afternoon dinner. But it was naptime, so we'll talk about it later ...

We never did resume the conversation, although I know I should probably start instilling some sense of responsibility in my 6-year-old, but that means responsibility on my part (with no allowance either!) to keep after him, and ... well ... OK, anyway, this morning after the breakfast dishes were cleared away, Aidan declared he wanted to draw a monster truck, which he named "Aidanasaurus" (yes, his imagination is definitely improving as of late! Must be the Miralax!). We have a pad of giant paper, so I tore off a sheet and gave it to him. I told him to wait, though, so I could wipe off the table with a wet dish rag. I then wiped part of it dry with a towel, leaving the room with half the table cleaned and dried because of a distraction elsewhere. After the momentary distraction with dealt with, I promptly forgot about the table and started to brush my teeth, all the while Aidan waiting patiently in the kitchen, holding his giant piece of paper. A moment later, as I was brushing away, Aidan stood in the bathroom door, face aglow, holding up the towel.

"You can give me a quarter now, Mommy," he said beaming. "I dried the other half of the table."

Wow -- he's some little entrepreneur. What a pay scale! And what an interesting way his mind works ...