Working Hard (or hardly working)

My son is quite the little entrepreneur.   The other night after dinner my husband was reading the girls a book and I sat on the couch to read a little myself.  I looked over to see what my son was up to and discovered he had put all the dishes in the sink, and was scrubbing the dining room table.   He even asked where the sandwich bags where so he could bag up the leftovers and put them in the fridge.  Needless to say, I praised him for his hard work and the big help he was to me.  As I sat down reading my book, I thought to myself how I could really get used to this.  Then my son piped up, “Mom, I’m doing this b/c I want to make some money.” So much for being motivated to serve out of his love and devotion to dear old mom.  I promised him that this week Dad and I would talk about allowances and chores. 

Of course the next day when I asked him to clean the table up after breakfast, he complained that he wished he had never told me it was fun and he didn’t want this to be his job anymore.  He then wanted to know if he could “take my flute and a hat and go play for money so he could pay someone else to clean the table.”

Looks like Dad and I definitely have to sit down this week and talk about chores and allowances.  We gotta set some rules and standards here soon.  He’s obviously old enough to work and I think he’s old enough to have some money of his own as well.  We just gotta decide how the two relate to one another.