At least someone values my labor, even if the exchange rate sucks.

Peanut was playing with his Chrismakkah tea set today. (First night present. There are ten days of Chrismakkah because that’s the maximum number of token presents we feel like wrapping.)

I noticed he had spilled water on the floor. “Oh,” I said. “You haven’t cleaned that up. Would you like a towel?”

He walked across the room to the coin purse his uncle gave him. He took out a penny.

“Here, Mommy. I pay you do it.” He offered me the Lincoln.

Well, that is how it works. Sigh. I took the penny. “Okay.” And I cleaned the water.

He looked at me, evaluating. “You keep that money, Mama. I give it you, you earn it.”

True dat, little boy. Now hand over the $1.224 million you owe me for every other minute of cleaning up after you.

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5 thoughts on “At least someone values my labor, even if the exchange rate sucks.

    • When we pay for something we explain that we’re trading. We trade our money for food, we trade our ticket for a ride, we give money because Daddy’s work gives Daddy money when he works for them.

      It’s less mature than memory like a steel trap. He remembers stuff we told him two years ago, and he’s not even three.

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