As we were driving home from school yesterday my son asked me where he was going to park his car.
'Um, your car?' I asked.
My son is eleven.
Yeah, he wanted to know if he was going to have to park it outside.
I told him he'd probably park it at his house.
'My house?' he replied, obviously confused.
My son assumed since he could get his driver's license at sixteen, he could get a car at sixteen too.
I then explained how car payments, gas charges, insurance and repair bills worked.
My son then figured out he's probably got enough money saved for a couple of tires.
He was very quiet and I felt sorta bad for him. A little.
TiredMama - destroyer of dreams.
Or perhaps just an advocate of working hard to achieve them.
It works both ways I hope.