There are a lot of things I’ve learned over the past three years with the newf.
Things like how to best protect yourself from being dutch ovened, how to use days of guilting to get your own way instead of just asking, and that there will undoubtedly be days that sharing a toothbrush – while gross and inappropriate – can be necessary.
You know. Important relationship stuff.
I’ve also learned that when left with too much free time, the newf gets inspired by things that rock me to my very core in horrible, terrible, water aerobicky ways.
This summer his special past time of choice is declaring and subsequently solving what he is calling our personal financial crisis.
For the record, his personal financial crisis is my super fun time consequence-free money. His one-way ticket to long-term financial stability is my easy street to new Raybans. His investments, RRSPs and debt consolidation are my Hugo Boss, gourmet meals and weekends trips across the country.
On THE FREAKING WAY HOME from the airport after San Diego – about two in the morning, just so we’re clear – he was actually GIDDY about the meeting with a financial planner that he booked for us to determine our budget that he just HAD to talk about it the entire drive home.
That is no way to come down off a Nordstrom high.
“Consider it a challenge!” he says.
“Drop dead and move the hell out of my house of pretty things,” I say. “I can buy new boyfriends.”
Needless to say, my rebuttal didn’t go over well and I am officially under spending restrictions that have me feeling so guilty that when I bought a 57 cent roll to go with my carton of soup – I remember because I felt like a criminal – I had to cut myself 57 times to release the self-loathing.
And let’s be honest here, instead of learning the lesson of wise spending, I’m actually just refining my ability to get him to pay for things FOR me. If it’s his treat, my bi-weekly budget remains deliciously intact.
I won’t tell you what I have to do to earn said treats but I’m starting to think there may have been an ulterior motive to limiting my access to money…
Yeah. I went there.
And so did he.
Will blog for $5.
I’ve done more for less…
Just kidding.
Ish.