The kids make some walking around money by doing odd chores around the house like making their bed, cleaning their room, peeing in the designated peeing areas, and confining all dirty clothing to the clothes hamper. Or at least in the vicinity of the clothes hamper.
All of the above I did as a child, but not for any monetary reward; no, I did it or my Pop and his belt find my rear end faster than it takes the average computer to log onto the Internet. But in the brave new world I find myself raising children in, apparently it's now required by the parent to reward the child for actually, you know, doing what they're supposed to.
Anyways, Ang took Chip and Dale to Gamestop tonight to buy a new game for their DS's. Trot chose "Star Wars: The Clone Wars" to go along with the 27 other Star Wars DS games they already have. They also have Sponge Bob games, Mario Brothers games, Baseball games, and something called Crash Bandicoot, which is the best I can tell a demented Fox who rides skateboards and stuff around. So when Rakes asked me to guess which one his Mom let him pick out I was expecting either "Sponge Bob: Live in Bikini Bottom" or "Indiana Jones has gotten really, REALLY old and the Temple of Doom" or something at least in that genre.
THIS is what my 7 year old, slightly hyperactive and borderline Wackadoodle picked out and his dear, sweet, naive, and totally stressed out Mom let him get.
That sound you hear is whatever was left of my sanity exploding somewhere in the Middle East as Rakes gleefully fires away with his, and I quote, "Really, REALLY big gun, Dad!".