Pay Up

Another of my middle aged, balding, paunchy buddies was getting along fine with his girlfriend, getting serious after two years of dating. They were chatting amicably about which caterer to use, making lists of which old friends to invite to the ceremony. Since they were both divorced with grown kids, there was no terrible hurry for them to purchase a home and they certainly wanted to get it right this time. They were spending a couple weekends each month looking at real estate. They liked the same neighborhoods, had the same taste, enjoyed the same features. What could be go wrong? Until my buddy made what turned out to be a blunder of Edsel-like proportions, a Chernobyl-level, five-alarm, screaming screw up.

He mentioned that he had gotten an equity pop when he sold his first house. He told his potential life partner that he had four hundred thousand dollars in the bank.

What had been a pleasant house hunt between equals with similar goals became an epic argument of unrelenting virulence. “Of course, YOU could afford to live in this home” his soon to be ex-fiancé would begin. At the next home she would mumble, “I could afford my half of this house. If I had four hundred thousand dollars.”

Within three weeks they were both back on computer dating sites. When they happen to run into one another, they nod politely but do not speak.

Maybe their relationship was doomed from the start. Maybe my buddy should have kept his mouth shut about the money. Maybe he should have spoken up sooner. Maybe there was a way for him to explain that his partner was welcome to the benefits of his good fortune. Or maybe they’re just better off moving on. Beats me. I’m no expert on marriage.

But I am supposed to know something about how to raise healthy kids in this careening culture. Therefore, I’m going to make a suggestion about your finances and your kids.

That we live in a society of excess and broken values is not news. Frenzied adults equate expenditures with happiness. Young kids whine about designer backpacks and endorsed shoes. I’m going to suggest that there was something fundamentally wrong with the union of the two disappointed folks described above. Similarly, kids whose emotional needs are being met are less likely to pitch a boogie about acquisitions. Kids who feel misunderstood and disconnected may be looking for material goods to fill the gap.

Not to be overly simplistic, but imagine two middle school kids: Susie has just spent three days canoeing with her dad, sleeping by the river, keeping an eye out for red-tailed hawks, making and eating s’mores every night by the campfire. She has listened spell bound as her father has told her stories about how to survive in the woods. Mary has sat in front of the Disney channel for an equivalent amount of time, texting her friends, absorbing commercials while her parents are elsewhere. Which child is more likely to feel that her needs can be better met by buying something?

Could we go so far as to say that when a child says “I want a seven-dollar lollipop” what she is actually asking for is something else entirely?