Money is one of those topics that is often forbidden or, at the very least, awkward to discuss, as a family. Money questions tend to make us uncomfortable, especially when they come from children: How much money do you make? What did our house cost? Do we have more or less money than our neighbours? Why can Sasha's family go on vacation to Mexico and we can't? Can we buy a big Lego kit? Why do homeless people sometimes ask strangers for money? More often than not, a parent asked these questions in public will quickly shush the child, and cringe inside. And even within the home, money questions aren't usually easy to answer.
I have, on occasion, been that parent, shushing my child, looking around to see who might have heard, and cringing inwardly. But the more I think about children and money, the more I realize how important it is to address and openly discuss these questions. Now when Lasse asks this sort of question when we’re out and about, I usually tell him that it is a good question, and that we will talk about it later, at home. I don't whisper, I don't glance furtively around to see who might have heard; I simply respond in a normal voice as I do to any number of other questions to which I cannot, for whatever reason, address at the precise moment they are asked. And then I do my utmost to remember to bring it up again later, at an appropriate moment -- which, in our world, generally means at home when there are no fires to put out. If we don't talk to out children about money, in all its manifestations, good, bad, and embarrassing, how in the world are they going to learn?
How we answer their questions, of course, depends on the child's age, maturity and comprehension. One trick: whenever I am stumped, when I really don't know how to begin addressing an issue raised by my son, or when he catches me off guard (it happens more often than you might think), I take the advice of Ron Lieber, the New York Times “Your Money” columnist. I tell Lasse that his question is interesting, and then I ask him why he is asking. As Lieber says, this does two things: it buys me some time to think about how I will answer, and it forces Lasse to elaborate on the question. This elaboration is crucial, I find, as it can help me understand just what he is after.
Perhaps the most fascinating part about answering Lasse’s money questions is the insight that our conversations give me into his thoughts and his understanding of the world. Money questions are not just about money: they are about trying to understand the way our world works, from spare change to robots to hurricanes.
Mama, can I have this nickel? (carefully holding a shiny nickel he has found on our dresser in the palm of his hand) …led to a conversation about asking and taking (not taking what doesn’t belong to us), the ways in which money is different (why it’s okay to take a marble or paperclip off the dresser, but not coins), ladders (whether they are necessary for reaching the tops of dressers, and whether they are safe to use alone), and attics (our attic hatch is located above the dresser and we access it with the ladder).
Mama, can we buy Annie a real robot? She really wants one, he told me on the bus. …led to a conversation about robots (what they are and what they can do), purchases (how, when and why we decide to buy something), needs vs. wants (robots falling, as I discovered, firmly into the first category for Lasse), gifts (when we buy gifts, how we decide how much to spend and what to get, and the merits of bought vs. made gifts), and then back to robots again — which, after all, Lasse has been interested in for months.
Mama, what if we run out of money? …led to a conversation about income (work and investments), savings (short- and long-term), basic needs (what we absolutely need — food, clothes, shelter), together with a hefty dose of reassurance. His next question — but what if a hurricane swoops up the bank and all our money flies into the sky? — is why I love, love, love five year olds. They ask the best questions. This entire path of conversation? Turns out Lasse had been chewing his weather book and the swirly pictures of hurricane clouds tossing trees and houses over in his mind. (Luckily, Ottawa is a decidedly non-hurricane-prone area.)
In many ways, we are in an easy stage. As Lasse gets older, his money questions will get more difficult to answer. But by building the groundwork now — for him (in terms of feeling he can ask us whatever he likes) and us (in terms of being comfortable answering his questions, and having strategies to do so) — I hope we’re setting ourselves up for many more years of conversation.
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