That’s the number of miles I estimate I put on my vehicle running the children to and from their summer recreation program this year. That doesn’t include going to the games both home and away. Since I get about 30 miles per gallon of gas and gas averaged $3.00 per gallon, it cost  around $54 or about $9.00 per child in transportation fees on top of the registration fees.

I only bring this up as evidence because my children have decided that I can’t afford their services.

I’m not a proponent of paying children an allowance to do housework and chores around our home. I believe that they should simply work out of the goodness of their hearts and in order to be an active member of our team. No one pays me to wash dishes or prepare meals so why should I teach my children that they are rewarded financially for picking up the used kleenex from the floor when they missed the half court shot made from the dishwasher to the trash can.  That’s why when the topic of “All my friends get paid allowance” came up, I immediately transformed into a mattorney, a mother who has sworn to uphold the family laws.

“We have the right to earn a living wage.”

“Jake and Max’s mom pays them $5.00 a week and all they have to do is make their beds!”

“None of my friends have to work as much as I do.”

“Isn’t there a law against child labor?”

I had a full blown mutiny on my hands.

“Ok, you guys. Let me ask you a question. Do you believe that you could afford my services if I started charging you for the work I do directly related to your very existence?”

They wanted to know what I meant.

“YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH! What if I charged you for having to turn your dirty sock right side out before washing them? That alone would break your budget because I really can’t think of a more disgusting job. Would you be able to afford the meals I prepare, especially since there’s a surcharge for anything beginning with the word ‘Amish”.
What if I asked for money every time you wanted a ride somewhere?”

“You have to do that stuff because you’re a mom.”

“But do you have any idea how much money you guys would owe me if I did charge you?”

Daniel, 13, objected

“Doesn’t the Bible say ‘Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors’? Shouldn’t that mean that we don’t owe each other anything?

“Exactly, Dan!”

As the slightly confused crowd dispersed, I called Daniel into my bedroom, pulled a five dollar bill from my purse and handed it to him.

Wisdom is always rewarded.

The Office is my absolute favorite television show. This may be the best scene ever:

It was late at night.  Everyone was camped on the living room floor, which is a tradition our family has on Friday nights. We typically let the kids drag their sleeping bags out and we watch movies until everyone falls asleep. On this particular night, Nathanael managed to stay awake longer than everyone so he and I were cuddling on the chair.

Unfortuantely our new kitten, Peter,  wasn’t tired either and was attacking the sleeping children on the floor. I picked him up and was trying to settle him down in my lap.  Peter was having none of this and began biting my fingers and scratching for release. This bothered Nathanael greatly!

“Mom. Give him to me.”

“He’s being naughty, Nathanael. I don’t want him to bite you.” I replied.

“But Mom! I would rather him bite my fingers than for him to bite yours!” he said earnestly.



Now if that isn’t the definition of love, I don’t know what is.

My girlfriend, Darla, was telling a story of her son, Jake, bringing their cat for show-and-tell back when he was in the first grade. Darla had just picked up the cat from the vet’s office after it had been spayed and was in a hurry to try to make it to school in time.

Since Darla was running late, she didn’t have a chance to explain to the teacher why the kids could not pet the recovering feline. Instead, Jake stood before his class and said “This is my cat. Her name is Belle but you can’t touch her because she just had her spades removed.”