- RT @mymoneyshrugged: The government breaks your leg, and hands you a crutch saying "see without me, you couldn't walk." #
- @bargainr What weeks do you need a FoF host for? in reply to bargainr #
- Awesome tagline: The coolest you'll look pooping your pants. Yay, @Huggies! #
- A textbook is not the real world. Not all business management professors understand marketing. #
- RT @thegoodhuman: Walden on work "spending best part of one's life earning money in order to enjoy (cont) http://tl.gd/2gugo6 #
The Magic Toilet
- Image by tokyofortwo via Flickr
My toilet is saving me $1200.
For a long time, my toilet ran. It was a nearly steady stream of money slipping down the drain. I knew that replacing the flapper was a quick job, but it was easy to ignore. If I wasn’t in the bathroom, I couldn’t hear it. If I was in the bathroom, I was otherwise occupied.
When I finally got sick of it, I started researching how to fix a running toilet because I had never done it before. I found the HydroRight Dual-Flush Converter. It’s the magical push-button, two-stage flusher. Yes, science fiction has taken over my bathroom. Or at least my toilet.
I bought the dual-flush converter, which replaces the flusher and the flapper. It has two buttons, which each use different amounts of water, depending on what you need it to do. I’m sure there’s a poop joke in there somewhere, but I’m pretending to have too much class to make it.
I also bought the matching fill valve. This lets you set how much water is allowed into the tank much better than just putting a brick in the tank. It’s a much faster fill and has a pressure nozzle that lies on the bottom of the tank. Every time you flush, it cleans the inside of the tank. Before I put it in, it had been at least 5 years since I had opened the tank. It was black. Two weeks later, it was white again. I wouldn’t want to eat off of it, or drink the water, but it was a definite improvement.
Installation would have been easier if the calcium buildup hadn’t welded the flush handle to the tank. That’s what reciprocating saws are for, though. That, and scaring my wife with the idea of replacing the toilet. Once the handle was off, it took 15 minutes to install.
“Wow”, you say? “Where’s the $1200”, you say? We’ve had this setup, which cost $35.42, since June 8th, 2010. It’s now September. That’s summer. We’ve watered both the lawn and the garden and our quarterly water bill has gone down $30, almost paying for the poo-gadget already. $30 X 4 = $120 per year, or $1200 over 10 years.
Yes, it will take a decade, but my toilet is saving me $1200.
Negotiating Superstar
Recently my son asked me for some money.
This isn’t rare.
He asks me for money on a regular basis. He’s kind of greedy some days.
This time, however, he asked what he can do to earn some money. Now, since I live in Minnesota and have the dog and we had the sixth snowiest winter ever this year, all my dogs little shoe-bombs have been buried for the last six months. It started snowing in early November and as of this writing, on March 25, I still see two inches of snow covering every thing. Last week, we had a thaw and got to see the grass. We also got to see the dog’s business all over the yard.
I told him that I would give him $10 to clean up the yard. He asked if a friend could help. I said yes. Then he asked if they would have to split the money or if I would be paying them $10 each. I said that I’d be getting the same amount of work done, so they should split the $10.
He didn’t like the plan, so he negotiated his way up to getting seven dollars each. Originally, I was planning to pay $20, but got talked down by a friend. I’d still be willing to pay $20. What I’m trying to do is encourage him to start negotiating. I am a lousy negotiator. I want my kids to have better financial skills than I do. I want them to grow up knowing how to negotiate and being comfortable negotiating. That will make him a better financial adult.
So I encourage him. Sometimes I offer a lowball number and if he gets so upset walks away I ask him why he didn’t give a counter-offer. If he just accepts a number that’s way too low, or if his grandma offers him a shiny nickel to mow her yard, I tell him no. I tell him to reject it and offer something that he feels is more in line with what he would actually be doing.
Now, if I’m going to keep up these lessons I need to work on my negotiating skills too, so this is also a self-improvement game.
How do you teach a kid to negotiate? What resources are out there to teach yourself?
Rebates Suck
About a month ago, I bought a new laptop.
The old one still works, but it’s kind of slow, and kind of in demand, especially when Kid #1 has friends over. When I need to get on the computer and whip up some side-hustle money, I shouldn’t have to fight with kids and deal with the whiny “Are you done, yet?” every 10 minutes.
This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment purchase. Since the old laptop still worked, we had quite a bit of time to find the new one, so I started watching sales. And I waited.
Eventually, I found a great deal. I got a much bigger/faster/smarter/nicer laptop for about $375 with tax. There was a sale, a coupon code, and a rebate all in play to make that happen.
I don’t mind coupons and sales. In fact, I am a fan.
Rebates, however, irritate me.
It shouldn’t have been bad. After all, I was going to Staples, home of the Easy Button®. I should have been able to go home, fire up their website, fill out a form, and get my money in a couple of weeks, right?
Grr.
Apparently, the easy rebate doesn’t apply to the good rebates. If you’re getting $1.05 back on a $100 printer, you can do it in a few clicks. But if you’re getting $50 back on a $400 laptop, watch out. Then, Staples has the same horrible rebate process as everyone else. Print the forms, peel off the UPC label, snail-mail it to the middle of nowhere and wait 4 to 100 months for a gift card.
Double grr.
Obviously, they are hoping a statistically significant percentage of their customers forget to claim their money.
Shady rebate garbage.
Rebates are a marketing ploy to convince customers they are getting a sale, while hoping the customer forgets to ask for the sale price, thereby paying full price and being happy about it.
Ethical businesses would just have a sale and be done with it. Treating your customers right is good for business. Really.
Now, where did I put that receipt?
Letterboxing
This week, I’ve been taking my kids letterboxing.
We go to a letterboxing site(either LBNA or Atlas Quest), choose a letterbox, then follow the clues. When we find the letterbox, we stamp our letterbox journal with the stamp we find there and stamp the book we find with our stamp.
It’s similar to geocaching, but without a gps.
Even as a grown-up, I get a bit of a tingle when we uncover the prize.
One of the clues we followed yesterday was this one:
To find this place, travel north with Hiawatha’s grandmother. She will bring you close to the spot. For the first part of the trip, the grandmother will become one with the number equal to the age of the oldest person Jerry Rubin trusted. On the north side of town, she will decide not to head toward the east, and she will become the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. Make the change with her, and right away you will find yourself to the west of a Holiday. On the right side of the road will be a brown sign pointing you to your destination. Leave the Grandmother to travel north without you, and follow the directions on this sign. You want to find the place where the City lets you Park (at least from 8 am to 9:30 pm). If you avoid the Dead Ends, you will find a parking lot. Leave your vehicle, and walk toward the water. If you turn toward the place where Henry meets Agnes, you will walk past the swimming area, and come to the numbers in triangles. Just past the 7s, 8s, and 10s, you will reach your destination, and find the place where Close only Counts. In the middle of this place, there will be a two-trunked tree. Standing with your back to this tree, and facing the lake, you will see three trees at the shoreline. Walk to these trees, and look under the leaves, under one of the roots sticking out of the ground near the right-hand tree. That is where you will find the letterbox.
Unfortunately, the letterbox had been stolen, and a wasp nest left in its place. I’d never actually been attacked by wasps before.
Until yesterday.
Not recommended.
We found a different letterbox hidden behind a loose stone surrounding a fire pit in a public park. Another was buried at the base of a tree a mile around a lake at a nature center near my house. A third was hidden in a hollow tree stump near a major intersection near my house.
Each one has been a different adventure, and each one has made my kids smile. Even the “I hate everything” 12 year old gets into it. The 4 and 5 year olds are asking if we can plant a letterbox.
To get started, you need a notebook to record your adventures, a $2 ink pad, and a slightly unique rubber stamp. That way, you can record your findings both in the letterbox and in the notebook you bring home.
For less than $10, you can get started, make some memories, and get some exercise.
Have you ever tried letterboxing or geocaching?
Kids Are Temporary
Have you ever watched someone go nuts after they have kids?
I mean, even after the I-haven’t-slept-more-than-20-minutes-in-a-row-for-3-months stage of babydom?
These people dedicate their lives to their kids. They sacrifice all of their hopes and dreams and focus on the brats. They can’t have a date night because little Sally might get lonely without mommy and daddy. Can’t have a hobby because Johnny’s on the traveling soccer team. Can’t get laid because it’s a family bed and that’s kind of creepy when the kids are right there.
Everything for the kids.
As they grow, it gets worse. You spend more time helping with homework and less time talking to your wife. More time playing chauffeur, less time playing doctor.
It’s a nasty cycle, and it comes with an abrupt stop.
What happens when school’s out? Little Johnny graduates with a dual degree in Practical Philosophy and Experimental Art History, gets a job at the local Stab-and-Grab, gets married, and starts a family.
When that happens, parents suddenly become “extended family”. The kid has a life of his own and probably doesn’t need his clothes picked out in the morning, a ride to soccer practice, or someone to write his name in his underwear.
This is planned. It is–in theory–the reason we raise our kids. It shouldn’t be a surprise, even if it is a bit of a shock.
Can you survive it? Can your marriage?
If you’ve spent the last 20 years of your life pretending you are nothing but a system for delivering food, rides, and gadgets for your kids, what are you going to do with your time when they are busy pretending they are that system for their kids? If you’ve never developed a hobby, are you going to go extra-special, bat-**** crazy now?
For 20 years, have all of your conversations been about your kids? Have all of your outings been birthday parties? Will you have anything to say to your spouse when the kids are gone?
Your kids are temporary.
They are important. They are your genetic legacy and the people who will choose your nursing home. Don’t neglect them, but you do have to hold something back. Make time for yourself. Make time for your husband or your wife. Or both, if you can make that work.
When your kids are working 90 hour weeks building a new career, or hustling 4 kids to 10 after-school activities, your life doesn’t get to revolve around them.
All you’ve got is yourself and your wife. If she’s not feeling secure about your feelings now, when she loses the distraction of puke in her hair, that insecurity will blossom in unpleasant ways. If you can’t find a conversation that doesn’t involve the kids now, the silence will be blistering when you eventually lose that crutch.
If you don’t have a hobby, get one.
If you don’t have a relationship with your wife, get one. Take her on a date tonight. Your kids are temporary, your marriage shouldn’t be. This is the rest of your life. Make it worthwhile.
