$140

Nothing good ever starts with

Mom, can I see in your wallet for a second?

And I should have known that something was up when I logged on to my computer Saturday morning and my kid was shifting on his feet back and forth behind me.

Mom, what do you use PayPal for?

Huh?

You don't use a credit card, right?

I mean, how could I not have known?

And then I see it.  The email receipt.

Thank you for your recent purchase from Flight One Software.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing.  I didn't do anything.  I swear."

And then I see the next receipt.  And the next one.  And the next one.

"What did you do!?!"

"I didn't know it was going to buy it!"

I have five basic rules to regulate my son's computer experience because I think that if you need more than five rules for anything, you're not managing it well. 

My 5 Basic Rules To Regulate My Son's Computer Experience

1.  No social communication (so if I ever start posting pictures of airplanes on Facebook, send me a private message right away...)

2.  Nothing with guns

3.  Nothing in a foreign language (which completely sucks for him because evidently only the Germans know how to build really cool Rescue Hero games)

4.  No downloads

5.  DON'T BUY ANYTHING!!!

$140 dollars.  I'll say it again ~ $140 dollars.  

Charged to my bank account for flight simulator software the he bought and downloaded onto my machine off the internet.

Do you remember this scene in Die Hard?

It was like that....except that it wasn't Bruce Willis, there was no fire hose and no one was jumping.  Definitely running for his life from the massive, exploding wall of fire that was about to engulf his entire body and shrivel him into a burnt pile of ash from which he would never recover maybe, but I wouldn't necessarily say jumping.

Although, he did jump up onto to the top of his bunk bed before I could get to him because he knows that I don't climb up there because it freaks me out.  I always think it's going to collapse, which Prince Charming has assured me would never happen because I don't weigh 250 pounds.  But it shakes and wobbles and I just don't like getting up there...and the kid knows that.

I got pretty close though.  Closer than he thought I would.  I could tell.

I immediately got on the phone to the bank.  Then I sent rapid fire emails to both PayPal and this Flight One Software company.  

Dear People,

These transactions were made by my 9 year old son and are not anything that I need or would want...EVER!  GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK!!!!!

Thank you.

And I'll just tell you that if this does ever happen to you, Steve at Flight One Software is a very understanding guy who refunds money extremely quickly.  

But, for the rest of the weekend, anytime my son wanted anything all I had to do was say, "$140," and it was over.

"Mom, can I have some ice cream?"

"No.  It's past your bedtime."

"Come on!  It's Saturday.  I can stay up a little later.  Can't I just have a small dish of it?"

"$140!"

"Alright!  You don't have to keep saying that."

Ohhhh, but I do.  From now on, $140 is going to replace 19 hours of labor as my excuse and/or reason for everything. 

For instance:

"I need you to take out the trash."

"Do I have to do that now?"

"$140!"

Or

"I need you to come over and help me lift these boxes."

"Isn't Dad there to help you?"

"$140!"

Or

"I need to move in with you."

"Really?"

"$140!"

Of course, I told my mother about all of this, expecting some kind of sympathy.  Something along the lines of

"Can you believe what this rotten kid did to me and my bank account?" and she would say,  

"Oh!  I can't believe it.  What a little shit.  Here, let me make you a latte and build you a fortress of solitude so you don't ever have to deal with that again."...you know...something like that...

You know what she said?

"Well, you're the one who taught him how to use the computer."

I said, "What!?  What kind of thing is that to say?"

And she said, "22 hours of labor!"

I did learn from the best.....