Random chatter in our kitchen tonight.

I was loading the dishwasher and my eight year old daughter was propped in her usual spot on the counter giving me the nightly play by play on the inner workings of the third grade.

FYI, can you believe kids are wearing bras in third grade?  I about fell over.  But apparently, they are.  Luckily though, my daughter doesn’t feel she needs one.  ‘Because she doesn’t have any boobs.’  I would tend to agree. 

But times, they are a changin’.  I think I was probably in sixth, maybe seventh grade, before I needed a bra.  And even then I’m not sure I needed one, but everyone had one by that time.  So of course, I had to have one too.

But THIRD GRADE?!?  They are barely out of kindergarten.  They play with Barbies and Little Pet Shop and are not above watching Dora if she happens to be on TV.  They ride bikes and play four-square and still draw on the driveway with chalk.  Clearly, these are not bra wearing activities.

I am so not ready for this whole tween phase that is rapidly making its way into our lives.  Not ready at all.

(And don’t even get me started on the hormones in the milk.)

((Because I could go on and on.))

(((But I have learned from my friend B, not to stir the pot.)))

((((I’ll just let you all know that I buy hormone free milk.  And beef.))))

(((((And I sincerely hope that the extra cash I am hemorrhaging in the milk and meat buying section of the budget will prolong the whole bra situation, among others, that I am not ready to face just yet.)))))

((((((And yes, I know I’m a bit crazy.  But I happily exist here in my own little world of denial, so let’s move on.))))))

So we are in the kitchen, my daughter in her spot on the counter, even though 9 other chairs were available at the time in the kitchen, but whatever.   There is just something about that girl of mine sitting on the counter that makes her mouth start talking.   So the counter is fine by me.

Of course if she would actually help with the whole dishwasher process while she was sitting there, that would be appreciated too.

But whatever.

We were talking about her beloved Nintendo DS, which has been missing for about a month.  And of all my children, this girl is the one who would be least likely to lose it.  To lose anything.  She is my most efficient, most responsible, and most together kid I have.  She wakes me up every morning and her bed is already made.  She keeps track of the hours she wears her headgear, for pete’s sake.  I would kinda like to be her when I grow up.  And she will be the best mom.  Ever.  I can tell these things.  Because she takes better care of the little ones than I do.  Seriously.

Anyway, long story short, the DS is gone.  She is trying to pitch in a little bit extra around the house to earn money for a new one.  This is a process that is going very slowly.  Because she wants one now.  And she’s earned about ten bucks.  So frustration is setting in.

We had a little conversation that went like this;

“Mom, can’t I just use my birthday money from my bank account to buy a new DS with.  I’ll pay for it myself.”

“No hon, that money is being saved for college.  Can’t touch it.”

“My birthday money is being saved for college?  That’s not fair.  Why do I have to pay for it?”

“You won’t even have enough to pay for all of it, but you need to save what you can, and Dad and I will take care of the rest.”

“Oh.  Well, how much does college cost, Mom?”

“Probably about 20,000 dollars.  For one year.  How many years do you go to college?”

“2? 3? 4 years?”

“Right hon, 4 years.  So how much will college really cost?”

“Eighty thousand dollars.”

“That’s right.  For one kid.  How many kids do we have?”

“Four.”  (insert huge, dramatic sigh)

“Right, four.  So how much will college really cost for all of you?”

“Umm, I have no clue.  I don’t have 80,000 on my multiplication grid.  How much?”

“320 thousand dollars.  For all four of you.  That’s alot.  That’s why we save the birthday money, to help pay for your books and your spending money and your expenses while you are there.  Dad and I will have a lot of tuition to pay, and you will need to pitch in with some of your own birthday savings.”

“Oh.  (insert another big dramatic sigh)  I guess you’re right.  I hope I find my DS soon.”

“I hope so too.  Show your father and me an effort, and maybe we can meet you halfway.  But you need to give the extra work around the house a good effort.  It will feel good to earn it, trust me.”

“You know what would be great Mom?”

“Hmmm?“

“Fiona has like a million dollars in Webkinz money.  Wouldn’t it be great if that were real?  I wish it were real.”

“You and me both, babe.  You and me both.”