It started in the pub. Obviously.
A warm Thursday evening. Two dads, a pint each, doing what parents do when the kids are out of earshot: moaning about the kids.
Specifically, about the fact that ours genuinely believe a £90 video game is a perfectly reasonable request. Because, to quote one of them word for word:
“It’s only £90. You earn loads. I can’t even work yet, so I can’t afford it.”One of our kids. Flawless logic. Deeply annoying.
The thing is, they see the price. They never see what’s behind it: the long days, the double shifts, the second job, the “I’ll sort that at the weekend” that eats the weekend. To a kid, money just… arrives. You tap your phone, and things happen.
And then it stopped being funny.
Kids who grow up wanting expensive things without ever connecting them to effort grow into young adults who want expensive things. Some of them learn the lesson the expensive way: credit cards, overdrafts, debt. It’s a brutal lesson at 22. It’s a cheap one at 9. We figured it could be learned early, and the good habits could carry right through.
“So why not just… parent?”
Because we were “just parenting”, and honestly, it looked like this:
“Can you do this? Have you done that? Do me a favour…”
No structure. No clear deal. No reason to do anything except that Dad asked. The kids did what they were told, when they were told, and not a minute before. That isn’t a habit. It’s nagging with extra steps, and it turns every Sunday into a negotiation.
We didn’t want to nag better. We wanted to stop nagging altogether, and swap the everyday friction for a loop the kids run themselves:
Job → effort → approval → money → a decision → a consequence → do it again.
Do the work. See it turn into money. Decide what to do with it. Live with how that turns out. And get noticed along the way for the things money can’t buy. That’s financial competence, independence and reward, built in rather than lectured.
Why no ads, no accounts, no subscription?
Because we’re parents too, and we didn’t want any of that anywhere near our own kids. No ads. No accounts. We don’t collect your data. Your family runs EarnIt the way your family runs, on your own devices and nobody else’s.
That’s EarnIt. Dreamed up in a pub, tested at our own kitchen tables, and argued with by our own kids.