"Come on, Dad. Let's play 'Monopoly'. It's my favourite game." I don't know who first exposed my child to this vice, but she is hooked.
Barely able to count, she is swooping around the board and building property like a small Donald Trump--he too, followed his father's business career. Alright, she did not grasp the principles easily at first and when she got houses she did not realise that it was a likely money spinner, but she learned fast. "Come on, pay up. That's $5. I'm getting rich." Is this how capitalism spreads, I asked myself, as I had to shift focus from the English soccer to see my small fortune dwindle and hers rocket ahead.I was sharing out the money because I knew she could not really manage the counting, but the child is not fearful. "Let me be the banker, now, Dad. I can do it." Well, as I looked at my meagre $2 stake, I was tempted to let her spread the love on me as she readily put her hand into the bank vaults as I rolled the dice, keen to give me money that matched the spots on the dice. But I could take the money and not let he do the same for herself. I explained, but she looked disappointed. When a philanthropist is thwarted, it is a sad sight. "Ok. I get it," she crowed, and she had. In fact, she became a tight-fisted banker a little too readily, and even as I went past Go, it was hard to get my $2.
I also had to stop her paying herself rent when she landed on her own property. Where are the financial regulators when you need them?
I hope that after her day off school due up tomorrow that she wont want to go into heavy training and ask what is the sub-prime crisis. But, that little face and its grin have started to take on a change that could worry a feeble parent. I hear the mantra, "Gimme the money," and I wonder what is she really learning. Nothing bad, I hope.
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