Ever have one of those days when you are rummaging through last year's winter coat and you find a $5 bill in the pocket? That is a pretty good day in my opinion... obviously not in my husband's opinion. He would think "Why didn't you check these pockets before you put this coat away? We could have used that $5!"
Well, yesterday we were getting together all of our tax paperwork-a job that has fallen mostly on me. My organized husband pulled out a folder months back and wrote in bright red crayola marker on the cover:"2006 Taxes." When anything came in the mail that remotely resembled tax info I was to put it directly into the folder-no passing Go-and definitely not collecting $200!
Now, this system works brilliantly... unless you are me. I now stress over if I have put all of the correct info in the ever important folder. If I miss something it is my ass on the line here folks!
While we were making sure we had everything (actually, it was more like my husband was making sure and I was sitting quietly next to him for "moral" support praying that it was all in there-because if something was missing I knew we would spend the next 4 hours tearing the house apart looking for it.) Suddenly my husband says "Where are all the tax statements for THIS house???" I of course thought they would be in there because I have stuck everything in that blasted folder, even a flyer from Fredrick's of Hollywood (you never know where you can get a tax break from.) I start looking through my own personal basket which I store all bills and personal letters for the house tax forms.
Before I go on with this story, it needs to be pointed out that each day I hear the mail truck, I send out the first kid I see to fetch the mail, I sort through it-opening only what I am interested in (this being anything that is NOT important documents) and then I leave the rest next to the phone for my husband to open. He then opens the important boring items and organizes them. I think this brings him joy really-feeling like he is in the loop with bills and such even though he has not cracked open our checkbook in ages... he gets fulfillment from knowing the bill amounts that are coming out of the checkbook.
ANYWAY... I find this paper in my basket that has an escrow check attached to it. I looked at the amount and then said "Is this a real check?" to which my husband snatched it from me and started to see red.
Personally, I see this as a good thing! HEY! WE FOUND MONEY! My husband sees this as complete disregard on my part to his carefully laid out organization of the tax documents. OH WHATEVER! Sheesh~lighten up would ya! Finally, after he is all soap-boxed out over the importance of keeping things together and wondering what else in God's name has been misplaced around this God-forsaken house I look him square in the eyes and say, "You opened this letter, not me. You put it in my basket, not me. Don't pin this on me Bucko!" He denied, I denied... and in the end--WE STILL FOUND MONEY!
After the dust cleared and he finally gave in to my insistence that I did nothing wrong and that I am very cute when I smile and my hugs are warm and inviting... I asked what he wanted to do with this cash.
When I find $5 in my pocket, I celebrate by going to Arby's for some fried cheese sticks--it is like they are free! My husband does not see it that way. We have to put the money in that stupid account he calls "Savings" *big sigh* My visions of botox and liposuction after delivering this baby came crashing down around my poor swollen ankles.