How To Teach Kids About Taxes

During the tumultuous economic times we’re faced with and the maelstrom our society is going through, when would be appropriate to explain the harsh realities of existence to our young? At what age should a parent teach the cruel lessons of life to their children? And what tact does one take to make it palatable or real? Well, listening to a comedian on the radio I came up with this idea.

My granddaughter’s birthday was in September and Halloween had soon followed. As usual, she went trick-or-treating and came back with a bag full of candy. This would be a didactic Halloween she wouldn’t soon forget.

Upon returning home from the festive ritual I took her in the kitchen and sat down to explain the brutal burden of taxation in America. We pretended it was her job to go trick-or-treating, just like daddy did his job at work. We also pretended the stockpile of candy in her bag was pay, just like daddy got from working. She liked the idea and began to giggle.

“The first thing the government does is take income tax from your pay,” I said as I reached in the bag and took a full third of her candy. The giggling stopped and the smile faded from her face.

“Next comes what’s called social security tax.” I told her, taking more candy from the bag. She started to whimper and sadness spread across her face. It reminded me of the expression on most American’s faces when they get their check at the end of each week.

I tried to comfort her while placing the “social security” candy on a shelf. “Not to worry sweetie, this is for when you get old and can’t go trick-or-treating anymore. The candy’s still yours, you’ll have it later. No, on second thought, Grandpa is going to eat this candy. Someday you’ll have grandchildren of your own and you’ll get some of theirs.”

I pulled another hand full of candy from the bag and she retreated in protest. “What’s that for?” she asked.

“That’s in case you decide to live in one of the forty-one states that have state income tax,” I said.

Just like the rest of us, confusion, doubt and disbelief gripped her, her innocence started to wane. Looking in her bag she saw more than half her candy was gone, tears welled up in her eyes. Unfortunately the lesson wasn’t over.

When her apathy abated she became replete with anger and I felt ashamed being the government. But like any good government, I still demanded my candy. And then, not unlike society, she slowly became accustomed to the game. Realizing there was still a little left for her she reached in and pulled out a piece, happiness replacing anger. Once again a beautiful smile lit up her face and she looked at me questioningly, with candy in hand. It was as if she were asking permission to eat it.

“Oh, are you going to eat that now?” I asked.

Staring up at me with a silly, affected smile, she nodded. I gently took it from her hand, unwrapped it for her, and took a big bite. Handing it back I mumbled through a mouth full of candy.

“Sales tax.”

She couldn’t believe it, shock plainly visible in her eyes. She began to wonder if it was ever going to end, just like we all do. Giving her time to finish the candy, and taking the paltry stash she had left, I walked over to where her brother was lounging on the sofa. He had been watching television all evening and hadn’t gone trick-or-treating. With her eyes bulging and despite her sudden remonstration, I poured half the remaining candy in his lap.

“That’s for you,” I said, looking back at my granddaughter.

Jumping out of the chair she shouted across the room. “Why did you do that?”

“Welfare,” I said casually.

My granddaughter had all the game she could stand and bolted from the room. Hmm, I wonder, do you suppose that’s  like leaving the country?