Last chap­ter we dis­cussed the impor­tance of genet­ics in finance. To sum up: it’s pretty darn impor­tant. Now let’s look at fis­cal con­cerns dur­ing early edu­ca­tion. I skipped over the baby years between because, let’s be hon­est, babies have an excel­lent return-on-assets ratio. For every asset they receive in their mouths (such as spinach) the return is much more than the par­ents bar­gained for. And the return usu­ally ends up all over the couch and bed­sheet and ceil­ing. And for­get about the smell…

Any­way, on to ele­men­tary school. The first thing you have to remem­ber is that every cent you save is going to go down on your per­ma­nent record. No, wait, sorry…. I mean every cent you save is going to pro­duce more inter­est in the bank and be a big­ger help when you get older. Unless you have piggy bank. What a cruel, inhu­mane and sick mar­ket­ing ploy: We’ll help teach kids how to save money by screw­ing them out of poten­tial inter­est and earn­ings on their sav­ings! You didn’t have a piggy bank, did you? You did!? You poor sap! Well, at least now you have this book to help you out, because you cer­tainly need it.

So we have ascer­tained that you need to save as much of your money as early as pos­si­ble, espe­cially in an account that grants inter­est. The obvi­ous prob­lem that plagues all lit­tle kids is… school bul­lies. Or so it would seem accord­ing to all comics and car­toons depict­ing Amer­i­can grade school. Have you ever had a run-in with a bully who took your lunch money? (Hint: No) When was the last time kids had lunch money? (Hint: The Civil War) How much was lunch money at that time and how much lunch could it buy? (Hint: If you ask your grand­fa­ther, it was a nickel and it could by lunch for your­self and two friends at the Ritz-Carlton, a cruise to the Bahamas and a mail-order bride.)

So what is the real chal­lenge fac­ing our grade school stu­dents? I have no idea. Hon­estly, did you ever have money when you were in Ele­men­tary and Mid­dle School? I didn’t. Even when my par­ents finally decided to give me an allowance, it was ridicu­lously small, and I was always reminded that it was sup­posed to help me learn to be a respon­si­ble adult which, as far as I could tell, meant being a miser. Because I was never sup­posed to spend it. It was sup­posed to stay in my room, in my under­wear drawer, slowly build­ing until, finally, I’d have enough to pay for my 10-speed in cash. Riiiiiiight.

I’d blow what­ever money I got on candy or toys. I think. I don’t remem­ber much from that period of my life; maybe I spent all that money on alco­hol. The only big money giv­ing occa­sions were birth­days; hol­i­days were devoted to sweaters and socks, and my allowance was the most con­fus­ing thing about my life at that time. Puberty was noth­ing com­pared to how my father cal­cu­lated my allowance.

I know some of you lucky kids had par­ents who were lazy and just decided on a flat amount as an allowance. They obvi­ously did not care about you. My father was one of the ones who decided that my allowance should be based on my age and grades and Body/Mass Index and Fed­eral Inter­est Rate and Wind Chill Fac­tor. The for­mula he used was insanely com­pli­cated and it inevitably came out to an even, round num­ber. Some­times it was very round. (He’s try­ing to be clever. He means it was noth­ing. (See, because 0 = round.)) Some­times it was even zero. (Oh, well then, we have no idea what he meant.)

So, to sum up: save what­ever money you can and try to put it some­where that will help it grow. Like in a mound of peat.

Dis­cus­sion Questions

1. Have you ever had a run-in with a bully who took your lunch money? Explain.
2. When was the last time kids had lunch money? Explain.
3. How much was lunch money and how much lunch could it buy?
4. Do these ques­tions seem famil­iar? Don’t Explain.
5. What the heck is peat?