Boys are more expensive than Girls: Cost Analysis

Flashback: I remember a few years back shopping with a very young Adam (who was was neatly buckled into the front basket of a Target shopping cart -- in an idyllic time before he threw everything out of the cart or roamed the aisles free) There were two women who were discussing if it was cheaper to raise boys or girls. They asked my opinion since I had a boy and one of them had a girl. I felt whole-heartedly at the time that girls must be more expensive. Really give my kid 2 pairs of shoes, a few jeans, and some navy church pants and we're set. At the time he could really entertain himself with an inflatable ball from the dollar store and a cardboard box. Girls, however, have outfits with matching shoes, hairbows, & accessories. Even girl toys have more accessories. I thought surely, girls must cost more. I learned today that's not the case. If I add up all the things I've had to replace due to Adam's destructions, I'd have quite an impressive girl wardrobe, or at the very least the adorable, dangly earrings I've been eyeing.

The full story: Ever since his Birthday and Christmas, Adam has had a severe case of the "gimmies." He wants retail, and he wants it now. His most recent desire was a kid's sized soccer goal for the backyard. We decided to let him earn the money over the course of the last month or so. Every week he does chores and gets a small allowance for his piggy bank. He was so excited when he got Valentine's Day money from his Grandma's to add to the cause. He's also learned that Pappaw pays very well for picking up sticks and making his bed at their house. Today was the big day. He'd saved enough for his set. He excitedly made me set it up as soon we got home, and couldn't wait to go play with it. I was so excited for him to celebrate him saving for a big purchase. I noticed the poles weren't sticking great into the corner brackets, so I broke out the hammer just to tap in the edges. He went on to playing with his soccer goal, while I made the mistake of leaving the hammer on the ottoman.

Later that day: Why does everything seem to happen when I take a bathroom break? From my two minutes of private solace, I hear banging that I can't quite identify. Every mother knows this is not a good sign. Before I can get my pants up, Adam is in front of me crying about how he broke his window with the hammer.

I was furious but, did my best to remain calm. He felt badly enough, I figured yelling at him wouldn't benefit anyone. He did get a good talking too, though. After assessing the situation, I made him bring in his new soccer goal that I will be disassembling and returning for a prompt refund. It broke his heart (and mine because he worked so hard to earn it) but, I figured if this is going to cost us $200 to replace the window, he can spot $30 towards the cause.