When I was six years old my parents opened a Junior Savings account for me at the M&T Bank in Oakfield that was next door to my Dad's new photography studio. Not the studio that they built, but the old redbrick storefront on the other side of town. The studio and the bank shared a parking lot, and my Mom took me over one morning to deposit my savings. I kept about $3 in that account for most of my childhood and it was still active when we applied for our mortgage back in 2014.
All three of the boys did very well for themselves with Christmas cash this year (they have generous great grandparents) and I decided it was time for them to open their own accounts, mostly because I couldn't stand to help them keep track of the cash in the house any longer. James immediately put his cash in his Eagles wallet, the location of which he intelligently keeps a secret from Owen.
Owen kept his money in a ziploc bag and counted it daily. Owen has had several piggy banks, including a T-Rex piggy, but it's hard for anything to survive very long in his room. Owen talked about his money often, making big plans about how he was going to spend it at Hershey Park, or perhaps on a LEGO set, and then definitely on a set of plastic football guys like the ones James has, and then definitely on 20 boxes of tic-tacs.
Owen also tried to make a number of dubious "trades" with Felix, who doesn't understand that the different denominations of bills are different dollar amounts. We made them nullify the trade where Owen gave Felix 9 $1 bills in exchange for Felix's $20, $10, and $5. (Felix, of course, thought that he had given Owen "three dollars.")
But perhaps the biggest driver for getting the money deposited was Felix, who regularly carried his bills around downstairs (perhaps, understandably, to keep them away from Owen) and then left them lying around on the library floor under stacks of half cut-up art projects and toddler detritus. He would forget where they were, freak out until we found them, carry them around again, set them down, and the process would repeat itself. We needed to get the money out of the house.
J was having coffee with a mom friend that morning and had brought Felix along. I came to a good stopping point in school with the older two and got them into their coats and masks.
"Now boys," I said "this is your first time riding in my new car. It's going to be fun. But I'm going to ask you please, PLEASE do not smudge up the windows or put muddy feet all over the seats. I know that all of these things are going to happen eventually, and that's fine. But just for a little bit can we try to keep the car clean so that we can enjoy having it new?"
"Yup!"
"Owen, I'm looking at you."
"I SAID yes."
"You also said yes when I asked you about the same thing with the rental car."
"Right."
"And do you remember how you wiped your muddy feet all over the seats, and how you opened up the car door really hard into the side of the house, and how you scratched the car because you were trying to eat ice off of the side of it."
"Right. I won't get muddy feet on the seats."
SIDE NOTE: I have a new car. The Corolla is gone, and I'm now driving at 2017 Honda Fit. I can't bring myself to write about it yet, but let's just say that as a result of an accident in which all parties (police, insurance, other driver) all agree I was 0% at fault I've still somehow ended up buying or paying for major repairs on 4 separate automobiles in the last month.)
We stepped outside, and Owen immediately ran to the muddy patch in the yard to step in it and crunch snow into it.
"Owen, is that the best idea if you're going to try to not get muddy footprints on the car?"
"Right! Okay, I'll remember not to put my feet on the seats."
We drove to the bank down the road. Owen asked whether we thought he ought to have a motto or not. He also complained to me that James was telling him Canada was a make-believe country. James denies this.
We arrived at the bank and headed in, then headed right back out because Owen had somehow lost his mask between the car and the bank door. (It was in the car.)
We met with a kind man named Justin to open the boy's accounts.
Justin: So...do you boys have the day off of school today? (It was a Thursday at 11 in the morning)
James: (not making eye contact and mumbling unintelligibly into his mask) We're homeschooled.
Owen: Excuse me, can I ask some questions?
Justin: Uh, sure. What are your questions?
Owen: Can you count my money?
Me: Owen, we can count your money here before we deposit it.
Justin: No, it's fine. Let me show you how I count it. (He organizes the bills from largest to smallest and rapidly counts them out.) You have $72.47.
Owen: I think you're wrong. Count it again.
Me: Owen, you'll need to ask more politely. And he's not wrong, I watched him count it.
Justin: It's fine. Here, watch me count it again. (Counts out $72.47 again.) Yup, it's $72.47. How much did you think you had?
Owen: I had $74. Probably somebody stole some. But my target is to get $100.
Justin: Well, maybe you can get to $100 if you can earn money?
Owen: Yeah, I'll need 26 more dollars. Hey Dad, are there any jobs I can do for money? Like cleaning my room?
Me: I'm not going to pay you to clean your room.
Owen: What if I do the dishes?
Me: Those are the sorts of jobs you have to do for free just because you're in our family.
Owen: Yeah, I'll probably just go ask Ms. Nicole for $26. (to Justin) Hey, are you going to put my money in a box?
Justin: We'll deposit your money in a special big box we have called a bank vault.
James: (mumbling inaudibly) I don't want to surrender my money.
Owen: Cool! Can I go into the vault?
Justin: No, we can't just let anyone into the vault.
Owen: Are you going to pay me money to keep it in the vault?
Justin: I wish it was more, but you will get a few pennies of interest every year for keeping your money in the bank.
Owen: I was thinking that it should be more like ten dollars. Can you do that?
We wrapped up shortly thereafter and said thanks to Justin (Owen effusively, James awkwardly and looking away), and then went back to my new car, with Owen stopping to step in snow along the way.
About a block down the road:
"Hey Dad, don't be angry, but I forgot about not putting my feet on the seats. Don't worry, though. There's not TOO much mud!"
Bonus Felix story:
Felix received a bounty of art supplies for Christmas...a crafting kit, pencils, crayons, scissors, and a whole ream of his own blank printer paper. (We're trying to stop him from stealing the paper out of our printer.) The other night he was sitting at the table drawing with his pencil. He put his left hand down on the paper and painstakingly traced it out. "I drew my hand!" He switched the pencil to his left hand, shifted the paper, and awkwardly traced his right hand on the other side of the paper. "I drew my other hand." He then sat up a bit in his chair, looked down, and shifted down again. He moved the pencil from one hand to the other, tried to scooch closer to the table, then looked up. "How am I going to be able to draw my penis?"
Bonus Owen story:
"Hey, who's this guy on my $10 bill?"
"That's Alexander Hamilton. Do you know who that is?"
"Hey, yeah, I do! He's the guy who wanted everyone to be counted when Jesus was born!"
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