In the past week I’ve had the opportunity to provide KidC with some real life tasks. He’s all of thirteen going on “I’m now taller than you so I your instructions are probably meaningless to me now.” I figured, fine, go do some things without your mommy then.
On Monday I sent him into the bank alone and had him deposit some money he earned for his upcoming band tour. Out he came because, although I suggested he write down his account number, he didn’t and panicked when he couldn’t provide it, leaving the teller before she could simply ask for his name and birthdate.
On Tuesday I sent him with cash and instructions on how to calculate tip for his haircut. (He never likes how I his haircut anyway so I figured why aggravate myself!) He almost would not get out of the car, looking incredulous at the cash in his hand.
“Go to the counter and give the person your name. Say you have an appointment with Ricky at 4 o’clock. When you are finished, calculate the tip. You probably will have to ask for smaller bills so you can give the correct amount. Call me and I’ll pick you up.”
He still wouldn’t get out of the car suggesting I might want to window shop while he was getting a haircut or grab a cup of coffee at Starbucks. I told him I’d pick him up when he called. He’d be okay and he could get himself something from the coffee shop while waiting for me to get there. That seemed to do the trick!
We laughed about his CBI (Community-Based Instruction) field trips for the next couple of days and then yesterday I asked him to make some powered milk…
Yesterday there must have been a gallon fat-free milk sale at Safeway because there was absolutely nothing except whole milk in the refrigerator. Too tired to drive to another grocery store I decided to grab a box of powdered milk.
Side note: I drank powdered milk exclusively growing up. Not sure why my parents chose powered milk. Looking back now, they were oddly hippie-like with their powdered milk, solar dehydrator, composting for our vegetable garden, my dad pedaling a 10-speed around up-country Maui in those Jesus sandals!
Well, I put the box in front of KidC. Showed him the directions and a container and said, “Figure it out.” I went to start a load of laundry (feeling a little guilty that we didn’t have clothes line for drying).
KidC met me coming back up stairs, sheepishly asking “How do I open the box?”
Oh my, talk about lack of real life experiences. He had never opened a pour spout box before and in attempting to get at the powdered milk, had totally removed the wrapping!
Shaking my head we headed to the kitchen to make the milk together.
Later KidC called me to the kitchen to proudly show me how clever he was and to admit that probably would not remember the directions to make more milk next time. Yeah, I think he’ll survive real life.