MOTHERLODE
The $1000 promise not to smoke
October 31, 2011
Lorraine Sommerfeld
SPECIAL TO THE STAR
The time has come to pay up on a mighty large bet.
Twelve years ago, I told two wide-eyed boys – just 5 and 8 years old respectively – if they hadn’t smoked by the time they turned 20, I would give them $1000. Each.
Why $1000? Well, it was an immense sum. We were rooting in sofa cushions for pizza-day money when the topic came up. I needed a number that was jolting to all of us, to show how serious I was.
Why 20? While I didn’t know anything about raising teenagers, I knew plenty about being one. I wanted to pole vault them over the worst peer pressure years; I also knew my influence would be fading to dust by then.
Why smoking? Of all the vices out there, it would be so easy to put many things into that bet. But it had to be simple, clear and memorable. My non-smoker father died 15 years ago strapped to an oxygen tank with his lungs full of asbestos. Lung diseases are horrid; the thought of my sons knowingly upping their odds of that, just to look cool or belong, was too much. So, smoking it was.
Upon hearing of The Bet, as the boys came to call it, both of my sisters instantly said they’d match it. That still brings tears to my eyes.
I don’t believe in bribe parenting, though that is exactly what this is. I’d never done it before; I’ve never done it since. Not even things like eating your dinner to get dessert. I don’t believe in it. There are things you must do to be part of this household and family. You have duties to perform and promises to keep. You will be rewarded with unconditional love and a place you belong, and the discipline to learn and grow. You will not be rewarded with bikes or cash or video games for doing things that are part of being a good person.
This is why The Bet has stood out all these years. Their friends all know about it, because both boys have been able boast of their decision to pass on whatever is being passed around. They get to say “I’m not blowing three thousand bucks,” instead of “I’m not allowed.”
Two months ago, I stood talking with a friend of Ari’s as he had a cigarette on my back deck. I told him it was bad for him. He nodded shyly, admitting it was stupid. “I don’t even know why I do it, but when Ari told us about The Bet I thought it was great. It would totally have been enough to not bother.”
A few other kids over the years have said the same thing. Others have shrugged. If they get everything they want already, or have always been bribed with dessert, it won’t work. It’s no magic solution, just a desperate attempt to honour the man my sons barely remember.
I have a nose like a bloodhound. I know when they’ve been around kids who have been smoking, and I work at home, much to their chagrin. We hug a lot and I do the laundry. I wouldn’t have to be a detective to know if they were smoking.
My sisters and I were joking recently that that thousand dollars seemed a long way off 12 years ago. That 8-year-old is now 6’4”, and seeding not so subtle reminders of his looming 20th birthday at each family dinner.
Today is the day. Happy birthday, Christopher. Don’t spend it all in one place.
Lorraine Sommerfeld appears Monday in Living and Saturday in Wheels. Reach her at www.lorraineonline.ca.