Picture this: your eight-year-old runs in from school, eyes sparkling, clutching a crumpled flyer about a class trip to Washington D.C. that costs $1,200. Before you even finish reading it, the question comes: “Can we go?”
Your stomach drops a little. That money is supposed to go toward the emergency fund you’ve been trying to rebuild. The easiest, fastest answer bubbles up automatically: “Sweetie, we can’t afford it.”
I used to say exactly those words. Then I noticed something that made me stop cold.
The Phrase Almost Every Parent Uses (and Why It Backfires)
Here’s the truth most of us don’t want to admit: when we tell our kids “we can’t afford it,” we’re usually not being 100% honest. Unless they’re asking for a small island or a professional sports team, we probably could make it happen if it was truly life-or-death.
We could max out cards. We could pick up extra work. We could sell things. We could borrow. The real reason we’re saying no is because we’ve decided those trade-offs aren’t worth it. That’s a perfectly valid adult decision, but kids hear something completely different.
They hear: Money is always scarce. We never have enough. The world is going to say no to me a lot.
Reason #1: It Teaches a Scarcity Mindset Without Meaning To
Financial psychologists call these repeated beliefs “money scripts.” They’re the subconscious stories we carry about money, and they drive 90% of our financial behavior as adults.
When a child hears “we can’t afford it” over and over, one of the most common scripts that forms is money avoidance or scarcity worship. Translation: “There’s never enough, so either I pretend money doesn’t matter (avoidance) or I obsess about never having enough (anxiety).”
I’ve seen it play out dramatically in my own extended family. My cousin grew up in a house where that phrase was the default answer to everything. The moment she got her first credit card at 18? She racked up $15,000 in debt in less than a year buying clothes, trips, and meals out — all the things she felt deprived of as a kid.
“For years I thought rich people were just lucky. Then I realized I had been taught that wanting anything nice made me greedy. So when I finally had access to money, I swung completely the other way.”
— 32-year-old client who finally became debt-free last year
Reason #2: It Kills Curiosity and Closes the Conversation
Kids are born economists. They want to know how the world works. When we shut the door with “because we can’t afford it,” we miss the single best teaching moment we’ll ever get.
Think about it. Your child just handed you a golden questions on a silver platter:
- How do families decide what’s worth spending money on?
- What are we working toward that’s more important right now?
- How does money actually move around in the real world?
Instead of answering those, we teach them that money is mysterious, slightly shameful, and definitely not something we talk about openly.
Reason #3: It Makes Money the Bad Guy Instead of Choices
When we blame “money” (or lack of it), we position money as the villain who’s stopping the fun. But money is neutral. It’s paper and digits. The real story is about priorities and trade-offs.
Teaching priorities early is one of the biggest gifts you can give a future adult. People who are comfortable with money aren’t the ones who always got everything they wanted as kids. They’re the ones who grew up understanding that every “yes” to one thing is a “no” to something else.
What to Say Instead — The Magic Sentence That Changes Everything
Here’s the replacement I started using years ago, and I’ve watched it transform conversations with my own kids and hundreds of families I coach:
“We could do that, but right now we’re choosing to put our money toward ______ instead, because that’s more important to our family.”
That single sentence does four powerful things at once:
- It’s honest — you’re admitting it’s possible, which keeps trust intact.
- It removes scarcity — money isn’t the problem, choices are.
- It reveals your values — kids suddenly see what the family truly cares about.
- It invites deeper conversation — most kids immediately ask “Why is that more important?” and boom, you’re teaching.
Real examples I’ve used:
- “We could buy the newest iPhone, but we’re choosing to put that money toward the cabin fund so we can have family weekends in the mountains for the next twenty years.”
- “We could fly first class, but we’re choosing to invest the difference so you don’t have to take out huge student loans later.”
- “We could get a swimming pool, but we’re choosing to max out retirement accounts this year so Mommy can retire when you’re still in high school and be around for all your games.”
Suddenly the child isn’t mad at “money.” They’re learning that adults make intentional decisions. And surprisingly often, they start to agree with the decision.
Age-Appropriate Ways to Have the Conversation
Of course, you’ll adjust the depth by age.
Ages 4–7: Keep it super concrete.
“We’re choosing to buy healthy food and keep the lights on instead of that toy, because bodies and a warm house are more important.”
Ages 8–12: Start introducing opportunity cost.
“That gaming console costs the same as three months of your karate classes. We’re choosing karate because it helps you grow strong and confident.”
Teens: Go full transparency.
Show them the actual budget categories on a spreadsheet. Let them see that a new car would mean delaying the Europe trip they’ve been dreaming about. Most teens, when treated like adults, start thinking like adults surprisingly fast.
What Happens When You Make Values-Based Money Talk Normal
I started this experiment with my own kids six years ago. The results still blow me away.
My 16-year-old recently turned down an expensive pair of sneakers his friends were all buying. His reasoning? “I’d rather keep adding to my Roth IRA while the contribution limit is still low.” I’m under 18.” I almost fell over.
My 13-year-old negotiates now, but in the healthiest way. Last month she said, “I know we’re prioritizing the house down-payment fund this year, but if I earn half the cost of the photography camp, could we cover the other half next summer when the fund goal is met?” That’s an adult-level money conversation from a middle-schooler.
Perhaps the most interesting shift? Money is no longer a taboo or scary topic in our house. It’s just another value we discuss openly, like kindness or hard work.
“The families who produce the most financially successful (and financially happy) adults aren’t the richest ones. They’re the ones who talked about money the most, without shame and without secrecy.”
— Summary of 20+ years of research on family financial socialization
Turning “No” Into a Launchpad for Big Dreams
Sometimes kids ask for completely outrageous things — a pony, a Tesla, a private island. Don’t shut those down harshly. Use them.
“A private island costs about $15 million dollars last I checked. That’s actually totally doable if someone builds something the world really wants. Want to look up some entrepreneurs who started with nothing and ended up buying islands?”
Suddenly “no” becomes “here’s the path.” You’ve taken an impossible dream and turned it into motivation.
I did this when my son asked for a Lamborghini at age ten. We spent the afternoon researching how much mechanics who specialize in exotic cars earn, what YouTubers in that niche make, even how much money MrBeast had to generate before he could afford one. He’s now obsessed with video editing and has his own channel. Mission accomplished.
Your New Family Challenge (Takes 30 Seconds)
Catch yourself the next time you’re tempted to say “we can’t afford it.” Pause. Take a breath. Then use the magic sentence.
You’ll feel awkward the first few times. That’s okay. Awkward honesty beats smooth scarcity every single day.
Because twenty years from now, your child won’t remember the toy they didn’t get. They will remember whether money felt like a constant source of stress in their childhood home — or like a tool they were taught to wield confidently.
Choose the second one. Your future adult child (and their future bank account) will thank you.
