Out of the Mouths of Babes
My column for this issue was inspired by a game of Monopoly I played with my daughter Amelia one night last week. The conversation that unfolded during the game was so funny – as conversations often are between children and adults – that I thought it might make a whimsical, light-hearted piece. But as I transcribed that conversation from memory the next day, it occurred to me that this episode was more than just funny... it was somewhat revelatory. I hope this column, which I've written as a "play" – and which is very close to our actual conversation, almost word-for-word – is a subtle (hopefully not TOO subtle) commentary on the way the very real forces of altruism and self-interest mingle in the human animal. The question it raises is one I think about a lot: How far apart are these impulses, really? Is it possible that altruism – if, for no other reason than that it makes us feel good – is just another form of self-interest? Does it matter? Probably not :-) Anyway, whether or not you give a fig for such "deep thoughts," I hope you'll enjoy this little effort. It was written with great love.
IF CHILDREN RAN THE REAL ESTATE INDUSTRY
Dramatis Personae
Mother: A frenetic, distracted editor/columnist for a small local newsweekly. Obsessed with politics, culture, religion, and other esoteric abstractions. 40-something, but fancies herself much younger.
Daughter: A bright, energetic 4th grader with a great smile. Nine going on 35.
Scene
Mother sits at her desk in the breakfast nook, enthralled by something she’s reading on her computer screen. As usual. Daughter is on the couch, watching a poorly-written sitcom with a ubiquitous laugh track on the Disney Channel. As usual. It’s almost 5:30 pm.
***
Daughter: Mom, there’s something I want to ask you, but I know you’ll say no. You always say no.
Mother: (Not looking away from her screen.) You can’t have a dog. Daddy says no dog. We have two cats and our house is too small. Don’t ask me again.
Daughter: No, not that! Something else.
Mother: (Still engrossed in something very important online.) No, we’re not going on the Nickelodeon cruise. I don’t care if Sponge Bob, himself, sends us an engraved invitation…
Daughter: Mom, it’s not the cruise! It’s something else you always say no to…
Mother: Oh. (Long sigh.) Monopoly. You want me to play Monopoly, right?
Daughter: Mom, I swear it’s fun! You’re gonna love it!
Mother: (In her best mom-as-martyr whine) But this is Mommy’s happy hour. I’ve been working hard all day. Edited a bunch of articles, started my column, and cleaned the bathrooms. And in half an hour, I have to start dinner. Right now, I just want to pour myself a nice glass of wine and jump on Facebook. Maybe read a few blogs. Chill out. Relax… Don’t you have some homework to start?
Daughter: But Monopoly is relaxing, Mom. And I don’t have much homework. Come on. Please. Do it for me. You can bring your wine.
