Consuming Fools
Title: Consuming Fools
Prompt: A Fool and His Money…
X X X
“Mom, my friend says Obama ruined our economy.”
Nothing makes me see red faster than ignorant statements.
However, considering my ten-year-old had just made the statement, I knew he really didn’t understand. How could he? The only things he really understood about handling money were that he always had to have enough to cover taxes should he wish to purchase a toy; Mom and Dad didn’t cough up cash on request; and we live on a budget.
So how could I explain the complexities of the situation in which the world finds itself?
The answer came to me when I walked into the play room. Toys that should have been tidily placed inside the massive toy chest overflowed onto the surrounding carpet. For some reason, my heart began to thump and anger rushed up into my face, heating me from head to toe.
It also gave me the answer I sought.
Placing my hand on my son’s shoulder, I squeezed lightly and told him to follow me. His questioning look followed me into the bathroom, where I stared into a mirror, watching him in silence.
“If you want something, you ask for it,” I told his reflection. “Sometimes you get it. Sometimes you don’t.”
Silently, he stared directly into my eyes via our images in the mirror. When he didn’t utter I word, I continued, “When you don’t get what you want, you pout and whine.”
Before he could even open his mouth to object, I held up a hand, trying to remain calm. This topic could really raise my ire, as I hold the view that the generation now growing into adulthood and those generations following hold a sense of entitlement they have not earned (and yes, I include myself in that). “Please let me finish,” I sternly said.
“Life isn’t fair. You’ve heard me say that,” I told him. “Well, life is often not fair. If we haven’t earned something, then by God, we shouldn’t have it. And somewhere along the line, we started believing we should be able to have whatever we want and pay for it later.”
“I don’t understand,” my son said, hunching his shoulders up in confusion.
“Somewhere along the way - decades ago - we started thinking that we should be able to have the latest and greatest. As a society, we began to truly believe that we had a right to have stuff. Like toys.”
Watching my son frown in the mirror at the last statement, I asked, “Do you even know how many toys you have? How many Star Wars action figures?”
Of course he had no clue.
“We spend money on stuff instead of those most important things - like paying off the mortgage.” As his eyes glazed over a bit at the lecture, I snapped his attention back to me when I said, “I could probably pay the house off five years sooner if I didn’t have to buy presents anymore.”
Oh yes, that statement got his attention. Yet in that moment, I also saw a hint of understanding (fleeting as it was) flash through his eyes.
“That’s right,” I said, smiling at him. “If we stopped feeling like we had to have stuff, we’d be a hell of a lot better off. But that would take people not feeling like they should have new toys or new televisions or new computers. If we didn’t feel the need to consume things and throw them away when they’re not good enough anymore, we’d have a better economy - more quality and less quantity. And maybe we would stop feeling like we deserved things we had to put on the credit card.”
When he reached down, held my hand, and smiled at me in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel whatever anger had started this conversation fade away.
Squeezing his hand, I gave him a small smile and gestured to the mirror with my other hand.
“Honey, if you want to know who ruined the economy, look in the mirror. We all did.”