Having the five year old watch the last two seasons of “Celebrity Apprentice” was bound to pay off, and she analyzed the teams’ performance along with the rest of the family. Designing hand drawn paper laptops at five, she’s a future entrepreneur.
Her preschool class learned about jobs last month. Fifteen tiny workers proudly wore a sticker stating their job title that they drew from a basket. Earning a penny a day, they anxiously awaited Friday’s shopping spree at the classroom store.
Exciting Job: Bag Helper
When someone’s coat or lunchbox falls off the hook, you get to go hang it back up. Three things fell during the first day, so it was eventful and exciting. Then she was stuck with that dead end job for the rest of the week, and days went by with nothing to do.
Unfortunately the harsh realities of not doing your job were quickly learned as her friend was fired. I asked if there was a boardroom scene or exit interview. Was Donald Trump there? She just giggled. “Mom, that’s silly.”
Big Sister Marketing Tactics
My early entrepreneurial training began at around eight years old thanks to my sister and her full piggy bank. Mine was in a perpetual state of empty, and the remedy was creating a “store” in my room. Having nothing of real value to sell, I was forced to create stuff from junk around the house.
It was back in the days of punch cards for computers, and my dad would bring them home by the box loads. Seizing the opportunity, I cut them in half, stacked 20 together, and stapled the top. Voilà! A pad of paper worthy of my customer’s admiration and pennies. Occasionally, I colored a design on the top sheet to make it fancier and higher priced. Drawing Snoopy on the front could bring in an extra 4 cents.
What store is complete without fake gum?
Using old gum wrappers and some paper, I painstakingly created Wrigley’s gum packs with handwritten labels.
Taping the “Now Open” sign to my door, I was ready for business. Advertising consisted of running to my sister’s room next door and over enthusiastically announcing for her to grab her piggy bank.
She was only five, and arrived with her little plastic egg full. With all the grace of Vanna White I showcased my wares to the unsuspecting victim. After purchasing every item, she left with the goods, and I sat back to count the money which I used to buy real gum.
I’m visiting my sister soon, and out of guilt…I think I owe her some Wrigley’s.