Yesterday I took Allyson to the Little Gym for her friend Mallory's birthday. I think she was more excited about birthday shopping than the actual party--though she ended up having a blast there. Throughout the day, Allyson kept suggesting hopefully that maybe we'd buy HER a toy.
"Today we're buying a toy for Mallory," I explained.
Allyson thought hard. "I know," she said cheerfully. "You can get down my piggy bank--that one up there, the big pig," she instructed. "You can open it up and get my moneys out so I can buy my own toy."
"Sweetie, you don't have enough money for a toy," I replied. "Besides, we're saving your money for something special." Her little shoulders slumped, and I figured she was giving up on the idea. I was wrong, of course.
While I was showering, Allyson banged on the door and hollered, "Is this enough moneys?"
I peered through the steamy glass and was able to make out two expired insurance cards and an old J C Penney card. "That's not money, Boo Bear."
"I know!" she said in a patient, patronizing tone. "It's credit cards."
"How do you know about credit cards?" I asked, simultaneously impressed and disturbed.
She slipped one of the cards into the crack between the shower door and its brass frame. "You just slide it like this," she explained, scanning it deftly.
"You are something else, girl!" I laughed.
So did I buy her the toy? No, I didn't. I wanted her to know that we don't always get the things we want, even if we have credit cards at our disposal. But I did give in to her plea for a bag of strawberry peanut butter M&Ms. (What a bizarre combination, if rather tasty!) Turns out she didn't like them, and I had to eat them since I can't throw away perfectly good food. So that turned out pretty well.