Baby Steps

Last Edit December 30, 1998

It is interesting when your youngest takes his first steps out of the nest.
And a bit unnerving.
He is only seventeen.
He is still in high school.
And his response to my near-death was to get a job. 40 hours a week. Grades be damned.
I had to allow it.
And now my youngest has a checking account. I escorted him into the bank and helped him apply. He needs direct deposit for his paycheck.
He arrived at the bank without ID. They accepted him since he has a savings account of significant amount and because I have lots of accounts and because, now that they have merged with another group, Wells Fargo is doing mortgages again and I am about to refinance. They know this. They are not stupid.
And I was decked out in a few thousand dollars in diamonds. Real. Left from the first marriage. I kept them. I paid for them. I earned them. I roll them out when I wish. The black velvet pantsuit and makeup didn't hurt either.
I was testing to see if I could get myself together. It's been awhile.
Three weeks out of work will leave you that way.
Never underestimate dressing for success. It works. He already knows this.
He needed to have a credit card but my limits are dangerous (for a child) and they don't have a school program until he is in college and is eighteen. So I applied for a fourth credit card with a low limit and two names. It should be here soon.
I told him he will pay for anything he charges. I don't know if that registered yet. That's another statement.
He marvels at the credit card limit. ($500 was as low as they would start. I will try to set it down farther.) Comments how it would be good in an emergency.
I remind him that in an emergency he should call M-O-M. My credit card is bigger.
I mind-flash to various emergency calls. Child in a car crash. Child's bus in a car crash and child four hours late coming home from school. Twice. Car hitting child and paramedics on the scene. Child falling on ice skates. Child driving a stick through his thigh. Child dropping pruning shears through his ankle. Child leaping out of a tree - and breaking an arm. Child pulling the WaterPic showerhead down into his face and needing stiches. Child careening into a ladder and needing stitches. Mother driving at 90MPH on the freeway to reach an injured child. Ah yes. Trauma memories stay with you. Most of these episodes are from my older child.
I also suggested (strongly) that he not activate the ATM card. I refuse to carry one. No check cash card either. A thief could drain your account. A credit card has a limit for loss by theft. Time he learned this.
I am not opposed to electronic money. I shop the internet - reliable sources only.
But I don't like these news ways they have created that allow you to be ripped off.
The cash card - load it with money. Lose it and lose the money. Oh no.
ATM or check card - lose it and they can drain the entire account. I keep too much in my checking account. I know this. The bank reminds me on occasion. On the occasion that I haven't yet paid the property tax on the two houses - second payment. Or on the occasion that I am about to go shopping. I plan my raids.
There need to be better ID backups. Fingerprint, retina or even DNA ID. We discuss identity theft. It annoys him that they can't handle this problem better. He lives and breathes technology. He hasn't learned that the technology may exist but the people designing security for credit companies aren't technology inclined. They lag behind about 5-8 years.
It is coming.
I will wait.
I caution him. I also keep the savings account unattached.
When he gets that it will take my signature to withdraw. It is for college. I have learned. My other son drained his college account in 3-4 months. Video games. Toys. Idiocy. Travel. He regrets that now. Oh well.
So far, my youngest can go to UCSD for one year.
Or a less expensive school for two.
Or junior college tuition and books for 3-4 years.
Whatever.
I remind him about this.
I suggest he add to it.
This concept is foreign.
He asks me on the way home what a statement is.
Oh boy.
He asks if he can take the account down to zero.
I suggest not. I discuss overdraft charges. They are significant when you earn $6.00/hour. I point this out.
He thinks a deposit is instant. With computers, it should be. But it ain't.
He will learn this.
He now realizes that he needs a driver's license. For ID. So he can cash his checks.
I remind him to finish the Eagle project. I am not wavering on this. No. No. No.
We are missing a phone call, a signature, some funds and a blueprint. I'll draw the damn thing!
I point out that he has paid for his checks (fancy ones, $19.50 for 150) and that the checks he has do not have his name and address and phone number on them. Therefore, they are useless in stores and only good to mail in bills. He has none. Not yet.
He needs a printed deposit slip for direct deposit.
These are all things he must learn.
As a salesclerk at the camera store, he knows about proper ID.
I suggest that he get a Lucky Rewards card. That way, he could cash a check there or at the bank.
I am actually serious.
Time he learned to load up his wallet and not keep putting it through the washing machine.
Time to add the car insurance card and the copy of the car registration. Prepare him for his license. Remind him to carry in a non-obvious way his social security number.
I have ordered a copy of his birth certificate. I have three but they are packed up in the garage. Somewhere. With mine.
Next we will get a passport. I need a new one. He may end up with that before he gets his driver's license. Or his high school diploma. Or his Eagle.
He is impatient.
He wants to write a check.
He wants to spend money.
Hopefully, his own.
Part of the maturity ritual of the American Male.
Beats killing a tiger.
But it is almost as dangerous.