When an oil change for my daughter’s car turned into major automotive repairs, it created a chance to teach our teen responsibility. You see, she doesn’t own the car; her grandparents do. So who exactly was supposed to pay for the repairs? (Subliminal message to our teen daughter: Get a job!) My ex and I talked and came up with a plan.
Second, we told her she didn’t have to take that car. She could find a comparably priced vehicle that she preferred. On that news, she jumped on craigslist and soon found a kick-ass Maxima at a cheap price. (Props to her for being so motivated.)
Only problem, the Maxima was in Boston. But hey – the guy selling it was in the Army and heading to Iraq, and he needed to unload it quick. He’d even pay to have it shipped here to California. My daughter was thrilled.
Um… does that sound sketchy to anyone besides my ex and me?
Who would check the car out? Why couldn’t this guy sell it to someone in Boston? Had the vehicle been in a collision? Was it considered “totaled”? If we did send a check, who would make sure the car was transported by a reputable shipping company all the way to California?
In other words, we told our daughter no to the Boston Maxima. (Subliminal message to our teen daughter: Get a job!)
Our daughter did some more checking, and realized her grandparent’s car was actually a great deal. The car is the vehicle of her dreams, but it’s functional and affordable. Props to her for doing the research, and being comfortable with her choice! That’s responsibility.
Third, while she does have money that she’s saved over the years toward a car, she doesn’t have enough to buy the car, repair it, and maintain it. Her mom and I said we’d chip in on one condition, and our message was not subliminal: our teen daughter had to get a job!
When I was seventeen, I’d already worked a full year, slinging burgers at Carl's Jr.. I couldn’t wait to make my own cash. Granted, my daughter has been a youth soccer referee since she was thirteen or so, and she refereed for gas for a while. But once her collage social life took off, she didn’t want to work weekends anymore.
Now that her teen independence is on the line by way of a car, she’s taking a new and deeper look at the whole work thing. Does she want to spend her weekends refereeing soccer, or being a cashier at Target? Or would she rather spend her remaining free time with friends? She’s thinking hard.
How long will it take for her to get a job? Who knows. At some point, she’ll decide she wants the car badly enough. Or there will be something else that costs money that will make her realize she needs to get a job.
Then again, maybe she found her grandparents’s money tree.
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