Just like the young midwest farmer who recently won the lottery, every so often, we (stumbling in the dark while simultaneously praying for success) parents get lucky and hit the jackpot too. Putting the children in charge of the cash for our family vacation to Hawaii was exactly that. Yes I know, I said “parents” hit the jackpot ……so how come the kids got the cash?        
     One thing we noticed about our daughters’ money management skills was that they were always far more miserly with their money than with ours. So, for this vacation, we decided to jump off the high dive and give them complete and total responsibility for all discretionary cash. Experts though they were (at the ripe old ages of 12 and 15), in predicting what mom and dad would do or say in any circumstance, there are no words to describe their shock when we told them our plan. 
     “You are giving us $2,000?”  They repeated in complete and utter disbelief. In that moment, their father and I knew we had them. And so it was, from pre departure till arrival back home, we enjoyed nearly complete role reversals. Instead of sleeping in and watching cartoons the morning after our arrival, they were up, dressed, and demanding we “hurry up” so they wouldn’t be late for the hotel’s 9:00 AM “Island Orientation and Recreational Activity Class.”  When cruising the island’s tourist booths and boutiques they petitioned one another, rather than us, regarding desired purchases. 
     One minor downside was the surfing class in which they enrolled me, along with them, so I could be the bigger spectacle. “Dad” was spared, thanks to their warped perception of the fine line between hysterical and humiliating.  Thank goodness, at least, they were too cheap to purchase the forever frozen in perpetuity photographs.  They also wanted to eat pizza every night for dinner. 
     Such inconveniences were all entirely compensated however, I assure you, by the absence of hearing “will you buy me” every five minutes or complaints about selection of daily activities. The highlight of our vacation was their jaws dropping when the bill arrived for our lunch at Cheeseburgers in Paradise.  “Seventy five dollars for cheeseburgers?” they asked incredulously, confident the waiter had made a major ring error. We then, with poorly suppressed pleasure, informed them of the price of virgin strawberry daiquiri refills and the necessity of including a 20% tip.       

Mama Marlaine
www.lifeskillsreportcard.com
 


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