My six-year old daughter has been dying to go to the farmers market for a week. Every day she asks if it’s Sunday yet, at least once, sometimes more. It’s not a hankering for roasted beets or that odd yet addictive sweet corn gelato that has her counting the days.
She gets an allowance of $2 per week. And it’s burning a hole in her pocket.
Each week she manages to find another must-have trinket that keeps her interest until next payday. This week, she’s obsessed with a teensy, stuffed seahorse, that somehow swam its way into our all-local market.
It drives me nuts. No amount of discussion about needs and wants, delayed gratification, saving for big purchases, or giving money to those less fortunate quells her desire to spend those crisp dollar bills as fast as she gets them.
And she’s never short an opportunity. Toys at a farmers market. A gift shop at the state park ranger’s station. A student-run store at school peddling cheap erasers and backpack clip toys. Everything seems to have a consumer element these days.
My urge is to restrict the spending, or shelter her from consumer society. But as a parent, with a duty to prepare her to live in the real world, all I can do is walk her through her choices, explain what I think the right decision would be, and monitor her behavior as she grows and changes.
One of the reasons we give our kids an allowance is for them to learn how to spend and save money. Let them learn what it feels like to buy something and regret it; to want something and not have enough; and especially, to see how long it takes to save and what hard work it is to accumulate enough for a big purchase.
It’s hard for me to watch her buy junk that she soon relegates to the toy box. It goes against the frugal philosophy that I’ve always hoped my children will inherit. But I think it’s important
to give her the time and tools with which to find her money personality while she’s young. It’s
far better to make inconsequential mistakes in the safety of our home than when she’s on her own with financial obligations and adult-sized bills to pay.
Say her spendthrift ways persist? Then I’ll step in, sweetening the pot with interest or matching money. I’ll likely do that anyway to teach her the power of compound interest. If that fails, I’ll institute a policy requiring her to save a percentage of her weekly allowance, much the way she is required to put a quarter into a jar to give to a charity that helps animals or hungry children.
Besides, it’s good to create habits that serve us well in adulthood — setting aside at least 10 percent of earnings for retirement, having a money of pool to dip into in an emergency, saving up to pay cash for cars instead of assuming a monthly payment.
But for now, the focus in my household is to count your change, thank the salesperson, and never leave your allowance — or toy sea horses — on the living room carpet.
Kara McGuire is the Star Tribune’s personal finance columnist and is a mother of three. Follow her on Twitter at twitter.com/kablog.
