Let Me Tell You Something by Caroline Manzo Page A

That’s your job, Lauren ,” I said to her. She just had to suck it up. But she did love the job, every minute of it. Well, maybe not that minute . . .
    Lauren was also always expected to help me around the house. She did laundry, she cleaned the refrigerator. She made the boys’ beds. The boys never made their beds, and she would complain about it, but I always told her that a girl needs to learn to be a good wife and mother. Call me old-fashioned, I don’t mind. But I was raised to believe it’s more important for the girl to learn to keep a house than her brothers. I was very tough on Lauren in the house, and Al was harder on the boys at work.
    The kids were paid for the work they did at The Brownstone, but we never paid them an allowance for the work they did around the home. It’s not something I believe in—paying your children just because? For things they should be doing as members of the family anyway? It just didn’t make sense to me, and I didn’t want to send the message that they could expect money once a week just because they did something that they should be doing anyway. Sometimes the kids had nothing in their pockets, sometimes they had a hundred dollars. But they never got paid for nothing. It’s my firm belief that when kids have expendable cash that’s when problems start—who knows what they’ll do with that extra money, especially when they reach a certain age and pot, alcohol, and other drugs enter the picture.
    If the kids asked for money, we’d ask what for? If they wanted clothes, I’d go with them to buy the clothes. If they were going out, they had to tell us where they were going and they had to call us and let us know where they were. We never just gave them going-out money with no questions asked. But they were also never without. We got them the clothes they wanted, and they always had enough money to hang out with their friends.
    All of my kids have inherited our work ethic, and not one of them is a spoiled brat. When Christopher started the eighth grade, he saw a Rolex watch on a billboard, and he had to have it. He told his father that was the one thing he wanted. It cost four thousand dollars at the time. It was very expensive, and my husband told Christopher that it was fine if he wanted it, but he had to work for it. We wouldn’t buy it for him.
    Christopher was thirteen or fourteen, and he became obsessed with working for that watch. He never stopped, he was relentless. And by the time he graduated eighth grade, that summer, he had saved enough to buy it. It was just incredible to see as a parent. I went with him to the jewelers as he made the final payment, and took that watch and put it on his wrist. I’ll never forget the expression on his face. It was the first time I looked at him and saw the man that he would become. I was so proud I cried.
    I was reminded of Christopher’s watch recently when the boys moved to Hoboken. When Christopher was faced with having to pay $300 a month for a garage, he decided to sell his car and just take public transportation. When he comes to visit me, he either rides with somebody or he takes the train to Ridgewood, and somebody picks him up. He’s become a smart businessman.
    If kids want things that are out of reach, don’t kill that dream. If you can’t afford to get it for them, show them that if they work, they can get it. All dreams are attainable if you want to work for it.
    Because they always were putting in the work at The Brownstone and at home, it was easy to spoil them. They were good kids. And because of our parenting choices to push them to work hard and to not give them an allowance, I believe they understood the value of hard work and money better than a lot of their friends.
    One thing that makes me proud and lets me know we did the right thing is the fact that all three of my kids have a very strong work ethic. They have all grown into