But Mimi, I Want to Save Money

My granddaughter texted me recently. She'd earned some money and had a plan for it. Could I Apple Pay her? Right then?

Fair ask. We had an arrangement, and she was holding up her end.

When I didn't answer right away, I was in the middle of a scam attempt — a text claiming unauthorized charges on my account, then a phone call from someone claiming to be the bank. When I asked them to verify, they hung up. I was rattled. Two minutes passed, maybe three, and a second text came in. She's ten. So I called her.

I told her what had happened — the scam text, the fake phone call, why I'd gone quiet. She listened. Then she apologized for being pushy.

I told her she wasn't wrong to remind me. At ten, following through on an arrangement is actually the right move. But I asked her to give it a little more time before the second text. To remember that whoever is on the other end of the screen has their own day going on.

She said: "But Mimi, I want to save money."

And there it was. Strong intention. Real plan. A ten-year-old saving money toward something she cares about — most adults wish they'd had that instinct at her age. There was nothing wrong with what she wanted. Nothing wrong with reminding me. Nothing wrong with being a girl who follows through.

It was the delivery that needed a little softening. Not the goal.

I've been thinking about her since we hung up.

Children — and grown-ups too, if we're honest — can be very intentional about the things they want to see happen. On most days, that's a gift. We want our children to have drive. We want them to set goals and chase them. We don't want them to be passive about their own lives.

But strong intention without awareness has a cost. If a child shuffles toward what she wants and ruffles a few feathers along the way, she may get the result — but she may not see how she got there. She may not know that the person who handed her the money was rushed, or interrupted, or rattled by something she had no way of knowing about.

Over time, that gap matters. The same intention can land as admirable drive or as steamrolling, depending on the delivery. Same girl. Same goal. Different impact.

I don't think we have to weaken our children's intention to soften their delivery. I think we have to help them see the second piece — the part that's invisible to them — that their push has a shape, and that other people feel that shape.

I keep wondering. Is that too much to ask of a ten-year-old?