Teenage Math

Gift cards are the bane of my existence.  I know what you’re thinking.  They’re a great gift for someone you don’t have a clue what to get.  They’re perfect for the out of town family who you only see once a year or a quick, “oops I forgot to get Tommy a gift and it’s December 24th” present.  They’re perfect for everyone on your list, except for the parents of a math challenged teenager.

My teenage sons were the recipients of multiple gift cards.  iTunes, Best Buy, Borders, Barnes and Noble; you name it, we got it.  iTunes was easy.  The whole thing gets done on the computer.  No parental assistance is required.  You log in, enter your card number, find a song or a movie or a book, push a button and voila, done.

Store gift cards are a bit trickier, especially when your kid does not drive.  It requires a parent’s participation to transport said teenager to the store of choice and that opens a whole bag of worms.  (Do worms come in a bag, anyway?)

Let me explain.

Our first stop this afternoon was to Borders. Oldest had a gift card worth $25 dollars.  After allowing him to browse the store for a few moments, he met me at the counter with not one but two CD’s.  Fair enough.  Handing them to the dark haired youthful checkout clerk, he found out he was a few dollars short.  “I need another $4.75,” he reported.

“Yes, and?” I replied.

“Can I have some money?”

“I suppose,” I said begrudgingly.  “I expect you to pay me back.”

“Not a problem,” he assured me. 

I rolled my eyes at the clerk.

Next stop was Best Buy.  I’m not a big Best Buy fan.  Too many people, too much noise and too many electronic devices, all of which will be obsolete within moments of leaving the store with them.  I prefer the quiet solitude of a bookstore but being the good mom I am, I trudged into Best Buy and got lost in the Apple display while oldest looked for ways to spend his $25 gift card.

Moments later, he was back.  This time I was prepared.  “How much is that,” I asked him about the two packages he had in his hands.

“Forty four dollars,” he volunteered.

“What planet do you live on?” I asked him. 

“America,” he replied.  (I kid you not.  Note to self.   Have a conversation with his science teacher as soon as school resumes.)

“You have $25,” I reminded him.  “I realize math is not your strong suit, but you have more stuff in your hands than you can afford.”

Of course he knew that already.  He is a sophomore in high school, after all and I’m pretty sure that addition and subtraction were covered thoroughly in the 2nd grade although at this point in this shopping expedition I’m beginning to wonder.

“Where is the rest of the money coming from?” I asked, knowing full well what the answer was going to be.

No words were necessary.  That toothy grin said it all.  Another withdrawl from the BOM (Bank of Mom).

“How is it that you using your gift cards has cost me $23.75?” I wondered aloud as I opened my wallet one more time.

Perhaps gift cards should come with a parental warning.  “If card is to be used by a teenager, it is highly recommended that the parent waits in the car.”