The resident 8 year-old possesses some truly phenomenal problem-solving skills. It's the thing that comes up at every parent teacher conference. Teachers are impressed. I am, too, except that the whole thing is quite the shiny double-edged sword.
You know how you something try to shut down your kids with an excuse that may or may not be rational? Like, if your kid asks to make Rice Krispies treats, you just say there aren't any marshmallows. It's a valid excuse, except not. Alexis will tell you that you can run to the store and buy some. If you reply to that saying there isn't enough time left in the day for a trip to the store, she'll figure out a perfectly reasonable way that someone else could go to the store and save you some time. Oh, and she will finish emptying the dishwasher to give you a few more seconds in your day, all the while giving you ten more reasons a trip to the grocery store would be a very good idea.
Those problem-solving skills were why I didn't feel bad about my answer to a question that she asked on the way home from dance class. "Mom, how much money do you start out with when you're a grown-up?" Alexis inquired.
I laughed.
And I laughed.
Heck, I'm still laughing. Did I become a pawn in a giant invisible game of Monopoly when I wasn't paying attention? If so, I want a do over because I started out life as a grown-up broker than broke. Actually, I had negative money because of a car loan, student loans, and blah, blah, blah.
Life as a grown-up doesn't start out all that fun, frankly.
I explained that Alexis. We talked about how even something simple like putting gas in your car can cost $50 or more. By the you are done paying for the things you "need," there's not really anything left for what you "want."
Alexis the Problem Solver had the best answer ever for that bit of bad news. "I know how I can save a lot of money. I'm just going to stay a kid because when you're a kid you don't have to pay for gas or a car. You don't have to pay for food. Basically you only have to pay for things you want to pay for."
If that isn't the most perfect description of the joy of childhood, I don't know what is.