Conceiving a child is gloriously cost-free, but the meter starts to run immediately and never seems to stop. Even the gifts given to me, I buy. My family always tells me they don’t overspend, I just under-deposit. One year for Father’s Day, my card read, “I couldn’t decide what card to give you — your VISA, American Express or Master Card.”

I guess my advice is that if you are going to have children, examine your nose, because you’re going to be paying through it for the rest of your life.

Children, be kind to your parents. After they raise you and send you through college, you’re all they have left. Remember that fifth commandment: Humor your parents.

There are some other costs involved in raising children. One is that your clothes will never be the same. Children have a large drool gland that will produce that not-so-stylish wet-shoulder look. And there are emergencies, like on a trip, when a kid says, “I feel sick.” Stop the car and run. Speaking of trips, they will be less stressful and cost you less energy if you never have more children than your car has windows.

Children cost you your bathroom. With three daughters, I hid all our valuables in the bathroom because I knew no thief could ever get in there. The definition of a dirty old man is a middle-aged father with three daughters and one bathroom. When daughters leave home, you don’t lose a daughter; you gain a bathroom and a phone.

Children cost you your privacy. Remember that out of the mouths of children will come words that Dad should have never said. Like the time, when after stumbling over the same toy that was left out for the millionth time, I explained the origin of fallen angels: One day when God was walking around in heaven He stumbled on a toy the angels had left out. When God told them to pick up their toys, some of the angels didn’t, so God started hell. It seemed like a great way to get the kids to pick up their toys until my daughter shared this basic theology with her Sunday school class. The pastor gave me a call.

Kids cost you your pride. Many times I felt like a nanny trying to help raise my girls. Then the teenage years hit. It happened so fast. During the teenage years I felt more like a ninny than a nanny. Like the time when my oldest daughter, Angela, had to have that special dress for her big night. I can remember it well. It was the first time she actually picked out and purchased an expensive dress (I use the word purchased loosely — she charged it to my account). Money isn’t everything, but it does keep you in touch with your children, especially as they get older.

Raising children can cost you your identity. There was a time when my daughter, Kasey, went through the stage of calling my wife and me by our first names instead of Mom and Dad. Penny went along with it, but I couldn’t handle it. I told her if she called me Charles I would call her “Carless.” She asked what I meant. I said, “For one thing, you haven’t known me long enough to call me Charles, and for another, Charles doesn’t give cars — only Dad does. They could even make a movie about you, ‘Rebel Without a Car.’” The next day, Charles became Dad again.

There is the final cost: the wedding. Someone asked me what part I performed in the wedding. I just had a small part; I was the maid of debt. All I had to do was answer the question, “Who gives this bride away?” I said, “Her mother and I, Master Card, and First National Bank.” All that money to give away daughters to other men who aren’t nearly good enough so I can have grandchildren that are smarter than everyone else’s.

Why would I pay through the nose all these years? Why would no cost be too great if it concerned my children? I guess it is because I don’t understand anatomy very well. I think my nose is connected to my heart (which actually wouldn’t be a bad idea, because every time I sneezed it would clear my arteries, which would save me money).

There I go being cheap again. Actually, I’m wired just like my Heavenly Father; it cost Him a lot to love His children.