The wicked witch of the purse strings

Why does the concept of a  weekly allowance go so completely astray?

It was all started with such good intentions.

A bit of pocket money for the chicks to spend or save up, on the weekends.

A kind word in their ear,"take your plate to the sink, please" or "put your dirty clothes in the basket".

I didn't ask a lot of them when they were little but as they got older and wanted

pocket money, I would ask more of them. 

Rightly so.

"How about doing all of the dinner dishes or pushing the Hoover around the hall way."

So now, I pretty much have them well trained to get the dishes sorted, at least their own.

They'll clean up after themselves if they do their own cooking.

The laundry makes it as far as the floor in the laundry room.

My son can ball up his clothes and  Shoot...Score  right onto the laundry room floor as it's upstairs and right across the hall from his room.

By the way I would recommend an upstairs laundry room to any  one-what a life saver.

It's little things that can make a big difference and everyone has been happy with these little things.

Little things means a little pocket money here and there - happy chicks.

Well puberty is hitting and the whole 'little things' has gone right out the window!

I'm the wicked witch of the purse strings.

Dirty knickers now make it to the bedroom floor and no further.

Shoes get scruffier to the tune of  "I can't be bothered".

And my favourite, "Mom, where's my blah, blah, blah; I can't find it," because their room is such a tip that I am physically unable to get the door open to search inside.

The threat of black bagging the lot and leaving it out for non-recyclable day isn't made anymore as it would really be just too much work for me. 

The council would probably take my garbage for random sorting then black ball  me as a bad mother for throwing away perfectly good stuff from my children's room-filthy or not.

So they want to do less but want to get more pocket money for just being...older.

Amazing.

The wanting and needing of my lovely chicks is wearing me thin, not the waist line unfortunately, just the hair and the little lines across my forehead.

I would never let the chicks go unattended so to speak. 

I'm quite generous  I think, and I always am picking up bits and pieces for them.

"Thanks for the pen cartridges Mom, but I really wanted a new Jack Wills polo".

What ever is decided, it will never be enough.

Enough jobs done or enough money shelled out. 

I am willing to pay a good price for  civil manners  from my chicks though.

I wonder what that would be worth at todays inflation rates?

A steady three eggs these days and they don't ask for hard currency.