Recently EM2 asked me if there were any chores around the house that she could do to earn some money. I told her there were plenty of chores to do inside the house and out in the yard and I would be happy to make up a list for her.
She asked how much I would pay her, and I said I’ll pay you the same rate I got when I was a kid. I’ll let you live in my house rent free and let you eat my food.
She didn’t like my answer very much.
I know better than to let my kids do any work for me. I learned my lesson a long time ago with EM1. Most of the time, when she “helped,” it ended up making more work for me than if I had just told her to sit on the couch and not move.
I recall one instance where I told EM1 to take my car to the gas station and fill the tank. I gave her $10 for her time and told her to use my credit card to pay for the gas. She drove away and didn’t come back for two hours. Apparently, she had a few errands to run and figured that was a perfect time to do it. She even used my credit card to buy herself lunch, get some “cute shorts,” and pick up coffee for herself and EM2.
The car had less gas in the tank than when she left, my credit card had three extra charges on it (not including the gas), and EM1 still had the original $10 I gave her sitting in her wallet. I felt like I had just fallen for some sort of Nigerian Prince scam.
My wife thinks I’m being cheap, and I should pick out a few tasks for EM2 to do and give her some money. Of course, this is the same woman that will give me a “honey-do” list a mile long and when I ask why, she says, “because you love me.”
Seems a bit of a double standard.
Anyway, I caved, as I usually do, and I told EM2 she could help me do some work in the yard and I would pay her for her inexperienced, mostly useless, assistance. Yes, I used those words. She pulled out her phone, glanced at the weather reports to check the temperatures for the next few days, then said, “No thanks. How about something in the house? Maybe I can vacuum the carpets?”
I didn’t realize there were stipulations to her participation. I wonder how well this is going to work for her when she is out in the real world, working for an employer that doesn’t find her as cute and charming as I do, and she tries to tell them, “It’s too hot, so I’m going to stay home, today. But don’t worry, I’ll vacuum my carpets to make up for it.”
I never got handouts from my dad when I was growing up. If I asked for money, he always gave me the same speech. “Go out and get a real job and earn your money like I do.”
Okay, this isn’t totally true. I do remember one time my dad actually offered to pay me for some yardwork. He told me to go out in the front yard and pull weeds out of the lawn. He told me he would pay me 5 cents for every dandelion I pulled. I grabbed a paper bag, gloves, and this weird, weed-pulling tool that looked like an overbuilt screwdriver with pitchfork points at the end, then I went to work.
I recall pulling a few dozen dandelions and, as I went, I would take the weeds that had already blossomed into white, fluffy dandelion heads, and blow the seeds all over the lawn. My theory was that if I was only going to make 5 cents for every weed, then I would need to make sure there was always a steady supply of new weeds growing to guarantee future money.
It was pure genius.
At least I thought it was until my dad came storming outside and screamed, “What the hell are you doing?” That was the end of that particular workday. It was also the first time I ever got fired from a job, and it wasn’t even a “real job.”
I don’t think I got paid for the weeds I had already pulled, either. Very disappointing.
Now that I’m the adult, I have a better understanding of my dad’s mindset. Why should I pay EM2 to do a job I can do myself without costing me any money? Or perhaps, more to the point, why pay her to do something that I was going to ignore, anyway?
Sure, I could offer to pay her to pull cobwebs down from the ceiling, or arrange the pantry in alphabetical order, but what’s the point? I don’t care about either one of those things, and it wouldn’t bother me if neither one of them ever happens.
Maybe I should just cut out the middle man and give her ten bucks to sit on the couch and watch television.
It would be cheaper than sending her sister out to gas up the car.
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