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The other day, nine-year-old Mikko was intrigued by our returning something to Home Depot. "Are they giving you cash back?
Can I have the munz?"
I said: "Normally, I'd tell you that it belongs to me, but I'm tempted to now that you've made up a new nickname for money."
"Oh, sure, Mama," he said. "Money has lots of nicknames.
Munz. Carrots."
I was having trouble driving from laughing at this point.
"You're right that money has a ton of nicknames, and
those are none of them."
![](https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8__dP7O0Iuo/V4Mw3Y76QxI/AAAAAAAALZo/GtwTxlSX3wYG5w29psXmPt1SWRg0imyAQCLcB/s1600/20160518_141324-COLLAGE.jpg)
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Recently I was talking with a nanny who was telling me why the kids she cares for ended up with Sesame Street shoes. She was apologetic in explaining it:
It was all they had left! They were on clearance, in their size, so we had to make do!
Meanwhile, she full knows my kids are
nearly always in head-to-toe character-branded nonsense: My Little Pony Crocs, Minecraft and Five Nights at Freddy's and Star Wars T-shirts, Spider-Man and Power Rangers hoodies, plus assorted accessories. As if I would be judging
her.
![](https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CSelOVuLKA0/V4MxM0q6DPI/AAAAAAAALZs/lZMTXai6RzID0Ai1BVQejUVrz4h4riQ5gCLcB/s1600/IMG_1144.JPG)
When I grew up, I wasn't allowed to wear characters. Well, that's too strong, but my mother "didn't care" for such fashion choices, and I was persuadable, so I had my Wonder Woman Underoos to wear in private but very demure and girly clothing to wear above.
Before I had children (and this is possibly the idealistic realm in which my nanny friend resides), I assumed their clothing would be similarly character-neutral. Not for me the Thomas the Train shirts and Elmo hats and Caillou sandals (I'm just making things up now). I eschewed even hand-me-downs and gifts that featured recognizable brands. My kids would wear cute things that wouldn't date them in photographs to a particular cultural period, clothing that was bright and whimsical and classically childlike.
![](https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YBui5a1gAK0/V4Muh2FT4XI/AAAAAAAALZY/uMneyCGs_6sbh5k8mSYmvskyNaegRaxaQCLcB/s1600/20120917_5315.jpg)
And so it went…
until my first child developed opinions.