2:17 pmSelf-Sufficiency
A few years ago there was a news story about a little boy whose mother died in their apartment. The little boy, being scared of getting placed in foster care, continued to go to school, cooked meals for himself, and even paid the power bill. He was only 7 or 8, but he knew what to do to take care of himself. A week or so went by before anyone realized that the mom was dead. I felt incredibly sad for this little boy, but I was also so impressed that his mom had done an obviously phenomenal job at teaching him to be self-sufficient. (He also sprayed the dead body with Lysol so the neighbors wouldn’t suspect anything, which was very icky… but still kinda impressive.)
What would happen if I died, I wondered. Would my kids know what to do? In actuality, if I died, my husband would come home at dinner time and they would continue to be raised with adult supervision. There would be no reason for them to have to pay a power bill by themselves. But still, I resolved to teach my kids to be self-sufficient. Therefore, my kids can: 1) cook a hotdog in the microwave (so they won’t starve), 2) dial 911 (so actual assistance will come), and 3) use a debit card (because money fixes everything…)
Today Zoe and I went to WalMart at lunchtime to do some grocery shopping. Being September 18th, it was also the release date of the most recent Barbie movie: Barbie as the Island Princess. We picked that up, too. By the time we got to the checkout, I was aggravated (as I always am when going grocery shopping). I moved all of the items from the cart to the belt, including the Barbie movie. Zoe screeched that she wanted to put the Barbie movie on the belt, so I moved the movie from the belt back into the cart, at which point she took it out of the cart and placed it back on the belt. In the very same spot where I had originally put it. She then climbed back into the cart to be higher in the air so that she could reach the debit pad… because once you have taught your children to use a debit card, you have relinquished any and all future rights to carry out any transactions on said card. I removed my debit card from my wallet and she snatched it from me. The screen on the pad asked: Was your cashier friendly today? Zoe pressed “No”, even though the cashier guy had made it a point to say hi and asked if we had found everything ok. In my mind I said a little prayer that the guy wouldn’t be written up for being unfriendly. Then Zoe slid the card through the card reader. It beeped at her because she slid it too fast.
“Do it a little slower,” I said.
“I know!!” she screeched. “Don’t tell me! I know!” If I instruct her, it lessens the amazingness of her being able to do it herself.
Next, it asked for the pin number. She knows this number, but sometimes she forgets. I started telling her the numbers.
“I know!” she yelled. She put in three numbers and hit “enter”. The pad told her that a pin has four numbers. She was mad. She hit “cancel”.
The screen on the pad then asked her “Was the store clean today?” Zoe pressed “No”, even though the store had been pretty ok, even by WalMart standards. She slid the card again and then — again — put in three numbers. The screen told her — again — that a pin has four numbers. She gave an exasperated “Ugh!” She pressed “cancel” again. At that point, she somehow selected Spanish instead of English. The screen asked her “Was your cashier friendly today?”… only in Spanish.
She yelled at the top of her lungs: “NOW IT’S IN STUPID SPANISH!” and hit “cancel”.
I turned and smiled at the Hispanic lady standing behind us in line. She smiled back, but I believe she wanted to punch me and spank my daughter. She turned and said something to her friend, in Spanish, which I didn’t understand… but it was probably something about how I was rewarding my bratty daughter for her racist remarks by buying her a new Barbie movie.
Finally, Zoe slid the card, managed to put in four correct numbers… in their correct order, and completed the transaction without offending any other gender, racial, or socio-economic classes.
If I ever really do die, I hope Jon makes it home from work before the kids have to take themselves grocery shopping.
4 Comments »
RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URL



Whats your pin number?
Comment by grant — September 19, 2007 @ 11:54 am
If I taught Julia how to use my debit card, I believe I would be phased completely out. That’s the one thing I’ve got left. I HAVE ACCESS TO THE MONEY!
Comment by Leslie — September 19, 2007 @ 7:13 pm
@ Grant: Sorry, I only give out my pin number to friends living IN STATE! Guess you guys will have to move back after all…
Comment by admin — September 19, 2007 @ 8:47 pm
You have patience! After the first two times I would have wrestled the card away from Parley and done it myself!
Comment by Sam — September 21, 2007 @ 8:10 am