(a money lesson for the little guys)

It came out of my son’s lips tonight,

as I readied myself to say goodnight.

“Cinnamon and a fart!”

The words, strung together alone, made me chuckle. But they belonged in a backstory, in which resided their culprit: a jar.

Want the rest of the story?

Here it is:

I bought a plastic collection vessel a while back, to hold small change.

I’m known to do that – to purchase random things and then show up with them later at home, excited to show off their teaching points. My ‘teaching purchases’, however, are starting to pile up as the years pass, much to the chagrin (and incessant eye-rolls) of hubs. But that’s ok. Because he does it, too. And now, I can pride myself on not only the educational angle to these, but also on their recyclability, since I now write about them here, and pass them on to all of you. I knew there was an extra silver lining somewhere. Eye-rolls begone!

The coolest part about this particular thing-a-majig is that it counts out the change. Running on batteries, it displays the exact total amount on the inside of the vessel, so that you’re never left wondering just how much is in.

Now, I’ll get into the ‘how it works’ and ‘reasons I think it’s educational’ in a different post, to spare you the deets. Especially if you’re here simply for the juicy story.

So tonight, I brought a coin jar up from downstairs.

I had found it tucked away in the bowels of the laundry room’s drawers, hidden there since God-only knows when. In it lay coins my husband had dropped in, every evening after stepping past the threshold demarcating work from home. Once he emptied them out of his pant pockets, they were immediately forgotten.

Well, not anymore!

I brought the jar right up to my son and placed it in front of his long-forgotten counting vessel. It was time for it to start accumulating more than just dust.

Right about here, some of you may be thinking ‘how cheap’,

or ‘how silly’, especially when considering the source: a physician parent in a dual-physician household.

But here’s a fact: I didn’t grow up with a lot, and part of my success is due to my having embraced concepts like this, which teach the importance of scarcity mindset, no matter who you are. There’s nothing wrong with saving. Or with prioritizing what you spend on. Quite the contrary, in fact: it’s everything right.

I’m starting on this early, with my own three.

So what did my son do, first thing?

He smelled it.

The lid popped off and nose went straight in.

I’m convinced that, when kids are involved in teaching lessons, there’s always potential for a humorous twist. But apparently, the jar smelled like ‘cinnamon and a fart’.

I’m not going to get into details, nor to my reaction when I, too, placed my nose on the top. Needless to say, his was a surprisingly accurate description of what wafted up into my nasal cavity that night.

I’ll leave you with a single question,

which I was left pondering before putting my own body to bed:

Why, in heaven’s name, did my son smell that jar?

(I’ll never understand kids. Even if I love ’em..)

Oh, and if you want one of ’em – and not a cinnamon and fart jar, but the collection vessel for your own budding saver (though I cannot guarantee there won’t be ‘cinnamon and a fart’ for you), get one at the Amazon link below (or just find your own, like I did at a discount store!):