Last night, my husband went to put the boys to bed.
About an hour later, he came back downstairs, distressed. Our son, in the fourth grade, had asked him a question. “Dad, what causes a recession?”
“Why does he have to ask me such hard questions? Why couldn’t he ask me something easy, like where babies come from?”
Three hours later, my son came downstairs. He talked his dad to sleep. They talked about video games and how my son would design one, and the economy.
“It has something to do with real estate, I think,” he pondered to me, “and moving around money. There was money and they move it all over the place. This can cause problems.”
“Yes, it can, I suppose,” I told him. “Mommy doesn’t want to talk about such things though. Go to bed!”
I’ll need to take economics at some point, in school. I’ll have him do my homework.