Hasbro, the company that makes Monopoly, has announced that it is updating the decades-old board game to keep up with the times.

For years, Hasbro has been doing "theme" Monopoly games -- special versions named after your college or city, where all the properties reflect real places. Hasbro does this because it knows every home in America already has a Monopoly game hiding in a closet and that you're not buying another unless Hasbro gives you a really good excuse, like calling it "Spokaneopoly" or "Altahama Technical Instituteopoly" or my favorite, "Lord of the Ringsopoly."

Some of the changes in the latest version include references to reality shows and higher property prices to reflect today's economy. But the biggest change is that the paper money has been replaced with, of all things, a credit card and a pretend cash machine.

When I read this, I almost had an embolism. The average American couple owes around $8,000 in credit card debt. If they make only minimum payments (and don't charge anything new), it will take that family 22 years to pay it off. The idea of supplying kids with little training-wheel credit cards is so diabolical that I wondered whether Hasbro is secretly owned by MasterCard.

If Hasbro really wants to prepare kids for the disappointments of middle age, it might want to include some other accessories. The boys could get bald-head-comb-over wigs, pretend bifocals and strap-on stomach pillows as fake beer bellies. The girls would get only 75 percent of the money the boys get, and halfway through the game they'd be handed a card saying, "Husband runs off with secretary! Raise kids alone!"

As a child, my brothers and I started a lot of Monopoly games, but as Monopoly lasts longer than a real "Lord of the Rings" movie, I don't ever remember finishing one. At some point, one of us (me) would get bored and go get a peanut butter sandwich, never to come back. Or we'd have a knock-down, drag-out fistfight over someone (my little brother John) cheating.

We'd end up with money all over the living room and the little metal tokens getting sucked into the vacuum. I never learned much about investing or real estate, and as a direct result I will probably spend my sunset years as a greeter at WalMart, eating cat food for dinner.

My wife and I are teaching our kids about money in our own, somewhat twisted way. Neither of us is very organized, and we often find ourselves late for appointments or the bus with no cash in our pockets and no time to stop at a bank machine. So we regularly borrow a few bucks from our kids' piggy banks, or ask our son to spot us his lawn mowing money.

It's gotten so bad that last week, as I approached the drive-through window at a fast food place, our 10-year-old daughters both sighed and got out their purses before I could say a word.

Our kids are pretty good at keeping track of their parents' debt even if we aren't. Our youngest son keeps a ledger on the side of the fridge, noting each time he slips Mom a ten spot, or cuts the grass without getting paid. The other day I asked him what the bill was, and he answered, without a second's thought, "One hundred sixty-three bucks!"

Sometimes this causes problems. It's kind of hard to send a 12-year-old boy to his room when you're half-afraid he's going to call in your loan and demand immediate payment in full.

At some point, my kids will all follow the lead of our oldest, now in college, who smartened up a couple years ago and decided it was better to receive than to give. He now borrows my ATM card so often I sometimes have to ask him if I can use it for a few minutes so I can get gas.

Despite my reservations, we might get the new Monopoly game, complete with debit card and ATM, when it comes out here. We might have a problem, though, when it comes to getting set up. If experience is any guide, every single one of our kids will want to be the banker.

If they start to fight, someone will have to come get me. I'll be in the kitchen eating a peanut butter sandwich.