Is this how Donald Trump got started?

My nine-year-old son has been obsessed with money for as long as I can recall.
"Keep your eyes on the ground and you'll always find money," he used to say. He was right. On every outing, he found -- not pennies -- but dimes, quarters and even dollar coins.

When he was 4, we once went to the beach at sunset and he found $80 (four $20 bills) floating in the surf. No kidding. He saves all this money and has me periodically take it to the bank to be converted into $100 bills for which he holds public showings in his bedroom. The neighborhood boys line up to ooh and ahh at his Benjamins. I am only surprised he doesn't charge admission.

This Halloween, he chose to go out as "Mr. Crabs" from Sponge Bob, going door-to-door announcing "Trick or Treat -- I LOVE MONEY!" The kid has a theme.

I wonder what career he'll pursue when he's older. Lucky him -- he won't have to choose between love or money, because for him -- where's the choice? His stated career aspirations today are: Major League Baseball player, comedian, and the scientist who invents a car which runs on salt water.

I'm thinking he might want to add "securities trader" to that list, since every day I am incessantly peppered with about 76,283 questions of "How much is that worth?" If I show him a picture of a friend's artwork, his reply "How much is that worth?" If I buy him a shirt, "How much is that worth?" If I receive a check in the mail, he asks "How much did you get?" The question is so automatic, I am ashamed to say -- I usually tell him without thinking.

More than occasionally, he stumps me. The other day he threw this curve ball.
"What would be worth more -- An original copy of the Declaration of Independence or The Holy Grail?"
"Umm ...," I replied. "The Holy Grail because that is globally-valued where the Declaration of Independence would be primarily valuable to Americans." I was so proud of my thoughtful answer.
"You think I could get $50 Billion for the Holy Grail?" He asked.
"Is there something you want to tell me? I haven't ventured under your bed in some time, did you find treasure there?"
We talked some more about potential buyers and whether Bill Gates or the Catholic church would cough up the most dough for the Grail. I thought we were done when he launched his follow-up line of questioning.
"If I found the Grail all by myself and sold it all by myself, would it be my money or the family's money?"
I said, "If you find and sell the Holy Grail all by yourself - its all yours." A big smile settled over his face.
"What if Teddy helped me dig it up with his paws?" At that point, our mini Golden Doodle trotted over to the conversation, evidently to make sure he'd get his cut of the action with this Grail business.
"If Teddy helps you dig -- you gotta hook him up," I said.
"Hmmm, how much would I have to give him?"
"Well, there's no rule, but Leona Helmsley just left her dog $12Million." We talked some more about how Leona's dog spends that money. I had just read an itemized accounting of this in New York magazine, so I could speak with authority.
"I'd buy us four jet-skis," he said. "And a side-car for Teddy so he could ride alongside me with his tongue hanging out."
Cam and I just sat there for a minute, smiling at the idea of us riding our four Grail-money jet skis with Teddy alongside. Teddy licked his approval for the plan.
Guess we better get digging.