I can always tell when Daughter’s payday arrives. She rolls into the house, arms filled with purchases as she hands me her share of the bill money.
I resist the urge to ask her if she opened up a savings account. While I know from experience how unpredictable the world can be I still remember what it was like to be a fresh adult of 18. You are excited with legal freedom, brimming with the confidence of youth. You are so excited to have money of your own that it burns a hole in your pocket as you hurry to spend it.
“I’ll do that next week,” I know she’ll say if I ask.
In the meantime she announces, “Right now XX is having a big sale. Look at my new stuff!”
I stifle a sigh as I examine her purchases, nodding my head as she tells me I should splurge on a new pair of shoes or a couple of bras while they’re on sale.
“Maybe next time,” I put her off. “Right now I’m saving up for a writing computer. My old laptop won’t last forever.”
“You’re just waiting for me to get bored with my new clothes and give them to you,” she counters with a huff.
I glance down at the brand new pair of Converse sitting beneath my desk. In her rush to order them she selected a size too big. Rather than exchange them she had passed them down to me.
I am content with oversized shoes.
“You got me,” I laugh.
The time will come when she realizes that money doesn’t buy happiness. She will look back in amazement at all of the money she spent on passing fancies. She will count her change and wonder how to survive until payday.
Eventually she will look at mom wearing her handmedowns and realize that, while far from rich, that Mother has the bills all paid, money in the bank, and the contentment that comes with having enough.
I just have to wait.