Econ 101 with The Mean Aunt: Shoes Aren't Free Just BecauseYou're Cute

It should come as no surprise to any of you that I am the nerdy aunt. The one who, when MJ counts the packets of Splenda at a restaurant says "Good job. Now count them in Spanish." The one who teaches her big words to freak people out. And the one who thinks almost-3 is the perfect time to begin learning about Economics. Well, personal finance, really.

You see, about 6 months ago, I bought her a pair of TOMS. At the time, we talked about how when we buy TOMS, "Tom" gives a pair of shoes to another little boy or girl who doesn't have any shoes. We bought them just a smidge big so she could wear them for several month. During that time, she became quite adept at spotting TOMS on others. "Hey! That lady has on TOMS, too!"

Well, inevitably, she outgrew her shoes. And then proceed to look up at me and say "My TOMS don't fit anymore so you better buy me new ones." Truth be told, had she asked sweetly, I probably would have made a beeline to the store, but demanding toddlers don't sit well with me. I informed her that she didn't just get free stuff because she was a cute kid and that maybe she needed to save up her own money and buy the shoes. (I heard that "Aw! You're so mean!" sigh. Trust me, it's not like this child doesn't already have 400 other pairs of shoes...)

"Um, all my money goes into Evil Doctor Porkchop (her piggy bank, a la Toy Story) and Mommy won't let me get it out."  she said, with a bit too much sass, as if she had outsmarted me.

"No problem. We'll just need to make you a separate place to save some of your money. A TOMS fund. And, if you work hard to save up half the money, I'll give you the other half of the money." That's very "One for One", right? I figured "Tom" would approve.

And thus, the TOMS Fund was born. We even worked together to make a pretty canister. Unlike her Evil Doctor Porkchop money, I told my immediate family I thought she needed to earn this money. So she helped pick up at my mom's house, helped my grandma carry in a sack of groceries, helped her mom with other chores, and earned nearly all the necessary $15 pretty quickly. And, since Easter egg hunting kind of counts as work, a few dollars hidden in eggs rounded out the fund.

So, Saturday afternoon, we set out to buy her shoes. The deal was that she could pick out whatever pair she wanted.

She learned about saving money... but not about looking
at the camera for pictures.

All along, she'd been saying she wanted a black sparkly pair like mine. Of course, plans change when you get to the store and see all the choices. She tried on three different colors of sparkly TOMS, a few printed pairs, and a burlap pair with flowers. Pair after pair, she declared she didn't want those today. I explained to her that today was when we were at the store, not tomorrow or the next day, so if she didn't pick a pair now, she was just out of luck. Her mom added "Or we can just go to my size and you can buy me a pair..." Suddenly, MJ decided on her three favorites.  Eventually, the burlap with flowers won...

Next, we proceeded to the check out. This is where I expected a meltdown. I figured the prospect of handing her hard-earned money over to the cashier might induce a fit. Instead, MJ handed the jar to the cashier and said "Look! Every day I've been saving my monies for TOMS..." The cashier was fantastic and really made a big deal about how great it was the MJ saved up her money.

With that, I ponied up my half and the transaction was complete. She carried the bag out of the store and thanked me for her TOMS. I thanked her too and told her how I was so proud of her for saving up for half.

Then she asked when she could get another pair because, as it turns out, the grandparents apparently made a few soft-money contributions to the fund and she's just a couple chores away from another $15.


(Also, a big thank you to Wilkinson's in Conway. They didn't bat an eye at the diva toddler requesting to try on half their TOMS inventory!)

Terrible Idea File: "I'll mow the lawn!"

I decided to add another page to my "It seemed like a good idea at the time" file yesterday. You see, I took a couple of days off work. While I'm a big fan of taking time off to go places and do things, taking time off just to relax -as was the plan this time- never seems to work out. Especially since "relax" usually means "sleep until noon". Instead, I was up at my usual time because we were having the house appraised. Of course, that meant the house was already clean, which would normally be what I would do if I were home for the day. Instead, I watched some TV, met David for lunch, and then was home with nothing to do. So, in a very Phineas and Ferb "I know what we're going to do today!" moment, an idea hit me...

"I'll mow the lawn!"

Have I ever mowed a lawn before? Well, yes. Kind of. As a kid, my grandpa had a riding lawn mower and I loved driving it around the yard. Now that I think about it, I am not sure he ever put the blade down, but in theory, I have a basic knowledge of lawn mowing. Have I ever mowed using a push mower? Um, no.

Nevertheless, I was sure it was a great idea. David's allergies have been really bothering him. Plus, he put in a ton of hours at work last week. I mean, wouldn't it be nice for him to come home and see the yard mowed and know he could just relax for the night? How great of a wife am I!?

I set out to find lawn mowing clothes. David always wears shorts, a t-shirt, and old tennis shoes. Since I don't own any shorts, I figured I would just borrow a pair of his. Sure, they would come down to my mid-calf, but that's okay. Less area to sunscreen, right? Because, as a conscientious lupus patient, I know that I can't be outside without sunscreen.

Next step: find the sunscreen.

Oh, remember earlier when I said the house was clean because we had to have it appraised? Well, "clean" might be a bit misleading. "Well-hidden" might be a better term. The cabinets and closets were a bit, um, crammed. Long story short, I couldn't find any sunscreen. That meant I had to revise my lawn mowing attire into pants and a long sleeve t-shirt. Yes, it was over 80° outside, but I'm not a particularly sweaty person, so I figured it would be fine.

With the wardrobe issues behind me, I marched out into the garage and pushed the mower to the driveway. I pulled the cord thingy I've seen David and people on TV pull before.

Nothing happened.

So I pulled again... with gusto.

The machine gurgled slightly.

I yanked three times with all my might. Still nothing.

At this point, I stopped for a mental pep talk. My mental pep talks usually put far more stock in my having a college degree than necessary. You know, because a degree in Economics obviously means I can do anything, right? Anyway, I reassured myself that I am a college educated woman. I have numerous skills and abilities. I am not a quitter. I CAN start this lawn mower.

Another few pulls. Still nothing... except an acute sense that the neighbors were watching and laughing.

A new mental pep talk. "Okay, it doesn't seem like you're able to start the lawn mower. That's okay. You're a college educated woman with numerous skills and abilities. One of which is realizing when it's time to ask for help!"

Since I didn't want to ruin the surprise for David, I decided to call my brother-in-law. One benefit of my whole family living within a one-block radius is that he was already on his way out the door, so he said he could just stop by and start the lawn mower for me.

Before he got there, my grandparents drove by. Of course, they rolled down the window and asked what I was doing.

"I'm waiting for Big Al to come start the lawn mower for me."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Maybe you should just get in the van with us and come to McDonald's" my grandma suggested.

"How is it that you don't know how to start a lawn mower?" my grandpa asked.

"Well, you always started the riding lawn mower for me and my mom never allowed me to use the push mower because she was sure I would mow over my own foot."

"That's true, Ed. Susie didn't want the girls mowing lawns. Don't you remember the time Aryca was on the riding lawn mower and a bee came at her and she just jumped off and let the mower keep going?"

After several more requests that I just come get ice cream with them, my grandparents wished me luck and drove off.

Big Al arrived.

"How many times did you push the red button before you pulled the cord?" he asked.

"What red button?" I asked.

"Did you push the red button? No? Of course not."

After he explained to me how the red button primes something... or something... or whatever... and told me not to let go of the little squeezy part of the handle or I'd have to restart the mower. But not push the red button again. That's only for after it's been sitting a while... or something.

"Ooooh, wait! Take my picture with the mower!"

"Um, okay..."

How fun is it that the shadows make it look like I have
a Seneca Crane beard?!

With that, I set out to mow the lawn. The first few rows were very empowering. "Look at me! I'm mowing! RAWR!!"

Then I finished with the side of the yard and moved to the main front part and the remaining side.

Our lot isn't exactly flat. In fact, the far side of it slopes quite a bit. I decided I better save that part for last... after I had the hang of it a little better. Because, I'm brilliant like that.

I made a few passes, concluding mowing wasn't so terrible.

Then I started sweating. I hate sweating. And the outdoors. And maybe lawn mowing.

I tried to decide how many rows I had left to mow. I had no intentions of tackling the (even more sloped) back yard. And the whole lot is only a quarter-acre. So, surely I was almost done, right?

About two-thirds of the way through, I started seeing spots. I decided I better go inside and get some water. And that it was kind of dumb push mowers don't have cup holders.

After a 10 minute break, I returned to finish. Of course, genius that I am, I'd left the hardest part for last. You know, when all of my energy was already spent.

I took a few deep breaths and pushed on.

"Good grief! It's like mowing the north face of Mount Everest!" I actually said out loud.

Finally, I finished. And I didn't pass out. I went inside, sat under the fan, and guzzled some water. Then, to truly celebrate my victory, I took a 2 hour nap and swore never to mow the lawn again.

A few hours later, David came home. Of course, I expected him to bust through the door and say "Praise the Lord! You mowed the lawn! You are the best woman in the whole wild world."  Instead, he said "What did you do today?" I made a scornful look. He said "The lawn? Did you mow that? Because I thought it looked shorter but then I thought maybe I'm high."  "You thought maybe you were high? You've never been high in your life. But that seemed more plausible than me mowing the lawn?"  And then we both laughed, because the odds really weren't in favor of my exerting myself.

"What did you think?" he asked...

So, here are my final thoughts / tips for any novice lawn mowers out there:

• Push the red button thingy before you pull the cord.
• Don't mow at noon... wearing long sleeves... after just having eaten Mexican food.
• Drink lots of water. Duct tape a cup holder to the mower to make this easier.
• BUY A HOME WITH A FLAT YARD! Even better, buy a condo.
• If your grandparents invite you out for ice cream instead of mowing the lawn, do that.
• If you are dead-set on mowing, do the hardest part first. Better yet, just don't mow the yard. If David decided tomorrow that he wanted to hire a neighborhood teenager to mow for us, I would gladly find the money in our budget.