Am I the only one who just noticed that it’s Wednesday? The holiday week with the free day is completely screwing me up.
Just to make this a relevant post:
Spend less!
Save more!
Invest!
Wee!
The no-pants guide to spending, saving, and thriving in the real world.
Integrity is what you do when nobody is looking.
Do you cheat at solitaire, steal from an untended garage sale, or keep something a store forgets to charge you for? If so, integrity may not be your strongest trait.
Similarly, if you let the actions of others dictate your behavior, you may be integrity impaired.
If you get cut off in traffic, do suddenly feel justified in cutting off the next guy?
If you have a dollar stolen from your desk, does that make it okay to take a candy bar from the honor-system candy box?
If the last guy left the water cooler empty, are you going to refuse to refill it the next time you are the one to drink the last drop?
If you’re answering yes to these questions, it may be time to examine your moral code. Doing the right thing means doing the right thing all of the time. You can’t be an honorable person if you resort to dishonorable behavior whenever you dislike what someone else does, especially if your actions are hurting an entirely uninvolved 3rd party.
You know the proper behavior. You know what the ethical choice is. The fact that someone else made an unethical choice doesn’t give you a license to be a dick.
If it’s your turn to clean the community refrigerator, do it and do it well, even if the last guy did a poor job.
If the last mom driving the car pool showed up late, don’t deliberately forget her kid.
If someone forgot to pay at a group lunch and you covered it, that doesn’t mean you can skip out on the bill next time.
Even if everything else is taken from you, no one can ever steal your ethics, your integrity, or your honor. Those things are up to you to destroy, and they nearly impossible to replace.
In all cases, in all things, do the right thing. You won’t be sorry.
Resurrected from the archives.
It’s a sad day when kids stop believing in Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, and fairies.
Not because I enjoy lying to my kids, but because–on the day they stop believing–a piece of their innocence is lost. An unforgettable, valuable part of childhood dies.
Believing in magic is a beautiful thing.
Do you remember the last time you looked around the world with a sense of wonder? When seeing a puppy form in the clouds was a miracle? When the idea of an ant carrying 1000 times its own weight was something worth watching? When the impossible goodness of a fat man squeezing down your chimney fills you with hope instead of making you call 911?
Do I believe in Santa?
Of course not, but I believe the concept of Santa is worthy of my children’s belief. I don’t want them to lose that innocence and wonder.
When my teenager was young, he asked if Santa was real. I responded by asking what he thought. When he told me he didn’t believe, I offered to let Santa know. His panic told me he wasn’t ready to give up the magic.
The day that conversation didn’t cause a panic, he looked hurt, like he’d lost something precious. He had.
His world of magic was gone.
The he asked why I had spent his lifetime lying to him. I told him the truth. I said I couldn’t bear to be the one to shatter his belief in magic before he was ready.
Then, I informed him that he was in on the conspiracy. He was not allowed to ruin it for anyone else. Not his sisters, not his friends.
That Christmas, my little boy helped me stuff stockings, which was an odd feeling.
The magic was over, but we still got to share the magic of his cousins and sisters.
About once per quarter, my wife and I have a…I won’t call it a fight. It’s more like she-comes-home-looking-stunning-while-I-make-disapproving-grunting-sounds-while-giving-the-checkbook-dirty-looks.
I hate salons.
$80 for highlights, $30 for a haircut and $15 for eyebrow “shaping”. It’s an afternoon of chemicals and hot-wax torture, for the low, low price of $125 + tip. Frugal it’s not, but that’s an argument I lost long ago.
This weekend, she tried something new.
Beauty school.
For roughly the cost of materials, she got her eyebrows “shaped” and her hair highlighted and cut by a senior student at the beauty school, under the supervision of a licensed beautician/instructor.
It looks good, and she said she had more fun during her appointment than any other salon trip she’s had. I guess there’s something to be said for interacting with someone who isn’t burned out on interacting with the general public.
What does it cost? What normally runs $125 cost just $35. That’s for a $5 cut, $25 highlighting, and $5 wax. That’s a $90 savings or 72% off. Yay!
Other services they offer include:
They also have a “Princess” package that we’re going to use for brat #2’s birthday party next month. It’s an up-do, nail polish, make-up, and tiara for $10 per kid. We’ll take the girls out to get made up all pretty-like, then off to the dollar theater, for a $35 party.
The school my wife visited has more than 90 locations in 21 states, but I’d be willing to be every city big enough to support a Wal-Mart also has a beauty school nearby. They don’t tend to advertise their customer services, so you’ll have to call, but for a 70% discount, it worth spending a bit of time on the phone, isn’t it?
I have two questions for you, dear readers:
Recently, my wife and I have been searching for new tenants for our rental property. That’s an irritating customer cycle. We’ve had more no-shows at the showings than we’ve had prospects show up. Most people who call seem to think that the rent on a 2 bedroom, 1.5 bathroom house with a big yard and a 3 car garage 5 minutes from downtown Minneapolis is going to match their little subsidized Section 8 apartment.
Not going to happen.
So we keep looking. In the meantime, it’s interesting to look at how a real estate trainer breaks down the life cycle of a customer.
Enjoy!
NEC Online Degrees
Lately my son has been in full-on greed mode. It seems like every time I talk to him he asks me to give him something buy him something, do something.
“Dad, can you buy me a Yu-Gi-Oh card?”
“Dad, can you buy me a videogame?”
“Dad, can I get this?”
“Dad, can I get that?”
That is really kind of obnoxious. My response has turned into “What’s in it for me?”
Really, he’s constantly asking for stuff and he’s trying to provide no value back. What kind of lesson would I be teaching him by handing him everything he’s asking for? So, I’ve decided to make him come up with a value proposition: “What’s in it for me?”
Now, when he asks me to buy him a video game, I ask what’s in it for me.
Sometimes, he comes back with “Well nothing, you just love me.” That is garbage. I’m not going to buy him stuff just as because I love him and teach them that you can buy someone’s affection or that you should be paying for someone’s affection.
Other times he comes back with “If you buy me video game, I will clean all of the poop out of the backyard.” (We have a dog. I’m not messy.) That seems like a much better deal.
Other times, he reminds me that I owe him back-allowance. That one’s a given. If I owe him more than whatever he is asking for, he’s going to get it.
Sometimes, he’ll say that he willing to do a bunch of extra chores or something, but he is learning that he needs to trade value for value instead of assuming that every whim he’s got is going to be indulged by me just because I’m his parent and I’ve been generous in the past.