I pride myself on my transparency with my kids. When they have questions about war, I answer them. When they come to me demanding to know what a prostitute is, I push through my discomfort and provide a (sex-positive!) definition. But there’s one topic that makes me antsy whether it’s brought up by a child or an adult: money. You know, the great squirm-inducer simmering just below the surface of every seemingly polite conversation about jobs, vacations and so-and-so’s new patio renovation.
My son has long been interested in money—from the time he first started getting allowance at age 6 to his constant curiosity about credit cards, restaurant bills and (I kid you not) property taxes. But over the years, his questions about specific dollar amounts have become increasingly hard to answer, culminating in a moment last month when, in the middle of the grocery store, he flat out asked me how much money I made.
“I, er, Daddy and I make the right amount for our family,” I stumbled.
“No, but how much?”