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My Sweet Little Capitalist Pig

August 11, 2010

For the past few weeks, my seven-year-old son has been asking me what it would take to bring a butler into our house (not to be confused with an ass butler, which we already have). I informed him that only people with gobs of spare cash and humungous houses – two things we’re currently lacking – require such accouterments, but he is determined to get one, ASAP.

I discussed an allowance with him, but he has no interest in a measly buck here or there: the kid wants cold, hard cash – preferably in bills of sizeable amount. I told him he could rake leaves or do other jobs around the house for extra money, but apparently that would take too much time and effort (seriously – was Wall Street on Nick at Night when we weren’t looking?)

He decided to open a store, setting up shop on our front step. He had a sign (“Come Buy Stuff”) and a table displaying his wares: a plastic jug with the lid cut off that had been repurposed as a wasp trap ($10); two sticks from the back yard ($20); a rock (actually, it was just holding down the real offering – an empty bag, $25); and, a piece of plastic from a Playmobil pyramid featuring hieroglyphics (the showstopper, $50).

He then put me in charge of marketing and tasked me with phoning our neighbors and friends to beg demand invite them to purchase something. Needless to say, the store was only open for a couple of hours…business was sluggish and then a rain storm ruined the price tags. He did manage to sell the wasp trap (his daddy is a sucker for entrepreneurship) and rather than dampen his spirit, this brush with commerce has only whet his appetite.

Tonight my son accompanied me to the Dollar Store – a.k.a. where stinky plastic crap goes to die – with his latest must-have accessory: a wallet. My son, who last week couldn’t tell a penny from a quarter, was now a comb-over away from tycoon status.

And what did he buy with his newfound wealth? A toilet brush. For his butler.

Nope, I am not making this up.

The resemblance is uncanny.

26 Comments leave one →
  1. August 11, 2010 8:27 am

    Brilliant – I’d stay close friends with him, he may share some of his future wealth with you 😉

    • August 11, 2010 9:31 am

      That is the main reason I’m letting my kid sell empty plastic bags…staying on his good side 😉

  2. August 11, 2010 10:42 am

    Hilarious! It’s like Alex P. Keaton meets Phinnaes and Ferb.

  3. marinasleeps permalink
    August 11, 2010 10:59 am

    I have a daughter that I think you and I should arrange in marriage with your son. She charges people to enter her room. And cause she is little sweet daughter, she is richer than us.

  4. Kali Capps permalink
    August 11, 2010 11:03 am

    You might consider getting him a whip and box to stand on while he conducts interviews. There’s nothing cuter than a miniature tyrant ;).

  5. August 11, 2010 12:50 pm

    Count yourself lucky your son doesn’t think that YOU are his butler. Currently my boys seem to be slightly confused. If I say, “I am not your servant” once, I probably say it 10 times a day.

    • August 11, 2010 8:40 pm

      Oh, make no mistake: I am totally the stand-in butler until he can afford a ‘real’ one! Funny how that’s a universal assumption by kids…

  6. August 11, 2010 12:51 pm

    You’ll be reading this post at his wedding, when he’s at some Fortune 500 company.

  7. August 11, 2010 1:53 pm

    If you play your cards right you won’t have to worry about your retirement at all! Kudos to you.

    • August 11, 2010 8:42 pm

      Hee – I just have to stay on his good side…chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast until further notice!

  8. August 11, 2010 1:57 pm

    I love it! Your son is going to take the world by storm in years to come, no one will know what hit them. I love that he knows what he wants and is not afraid to pull out all the stops to make it happen. Way to go!

    • August 11, 2010 8:43 pm

      Aww – that is a lovely way to put it – thank you! My writing critique group was over tonight and he was showing them his wallet…

  9. Kevin permalink
    August 12, 2010 2:12 am

    This brings back memories! I sold my sister’s toys…to her. I made a casino for the neighbours’ kids, mostly unwinnable games. I even sold tickets to a great play I had written, and when the curtain opened it revealed movie playing on tv. I didn’t want a butler though (that’s what moms are for, lol) I wanted a rocket ship.
    Oh, and it didn’t stop when I grew up. I once bought a bag of little “lip” pins for a dollar, and sold them at Rocky Horror for $2 each. 🙂

  10. August 15, 2010 4:37 pm

    One good thing…he’s got drive!

    • August 15, 2010 10:36 pm

      Oh man – he’s now obsessed with buying a safe with a combination lock…for his $15.00 and change!

  11. pajamadays permalink
    August 16, 2010 8:59 am

    A butler? That is awesome. At least he doesn’t see you as the maid (even though we feel like it some days.) This was precious.

    – Emily

  12. September 15, 2010 5:08 pm

    OMG. I love you! I’ve gotta go make indecent advances to Morgan for introducing us.

    AWESOME post!

    And yes, I’m my daughter’s beck and call girl (wow, did I just make a Pretty Woman reference? I am SO not old enough to know that movie, word for word, by heart)

  13. October 7, 2010 3:37 pm

    That is so cute! My oldest girl wanted “servants” when she was little. She even wrote a little story about it and then shared it with her 1st grade class to my horror.

    • October 7, 2010 4:00 pm

      I first read this and thought you’d written “in my honour”, which is also quite funny…!


  1. Lori Dyan

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