Article content As a kid, I received a weekly allowance from my parents. They, however, never paid me for household chores. That was quite a contrast with the experience of my friends, whose parents paid them to mow the lawn, clear the snow in the driveway and — gasp! — clean their bedroom. The bedroom — that was the kicker for me, the one that most made me question the economic model applied at my house. I stopped just short of starting a union with my brother, but questioned my parents about the discrepancy between us and our friends. Their response was swift: “We give you an allowance because we want to, not because we have to, and we will not pay you for things you should be doing anyway, like tidying up your bedroom. You get paid for work and that’s not what work is.” My parents ran a tight ship and not even a pair of ungrateful, spoiled children would make it go adrift. That discipline made me understand the value of an earned dollar.