money – VievesVine

As I walked to register #4 at a Home Goods store, the clerk offered to sign me up for a credit card.

“You’ll save an extra 30% on your purchases today if you apply for our credit card,” she said. “It will only take a minute to get approved.”

Tempting…but no.

“I appreciate the offer, but if I want to stay married. I must decline,” I said.

I went on to explain that my husband is not a fan of credit cards. Gary says companies make credit cards the same shape and size as gift cards to tempt us to believe we don’t have to pay them back.

I didn’t go into that with the clerk.

Instead, I said, “We’ve been married for at least 100 years. If I’m forced to choose between a credit card and my life history, I’ll hang on to my history.”

It’s one of the many reasons that divorce is not an option for us.

History.

Gary has been an integral part of my life and my family since we were 17 years old. If I cancel him or he cancels me, we’re wiping out a ton of years full of a lifetime of memories.

My youngest brother has zero recollection of life without Gary. He was six when Gary and I started dating.

Another reason divorce is not an option for me is, well, because I’m lazy.

No way am I up to the task of editing Gary out of 100 years of pictures. As for the myriad family photo albums we have scattered about, it took a lot of time to put those together.

Several years ago, I noticed the spine had separated on an album that belonged to my parents, and the photos inside were beginning to fade. My sister-in-law and I transferred the pictures onto quality, nonstick pages in a new album.

The job was time-consuming, but a labor of love. I’m happy we did it, but I don’t want to do it again, and I doubt my sister-in-law would help me this go around.

Selfishness is another reason I can’t get a credit card and give Gary a reason to divorce me.

Who else would remind me that where I stand or sit has no bearing on the outcomes of WVU basketball and football games?

Who else would say, “Sure,” when I tell him, “My seesta-girlfriends are coming to stay for the weekend?”

Who else would clean my car windows before I go on a road trip, make dinner when I work late, or watch an infant baby grand—change diapers, etc.—while I go to tennis practice?

Distribution of property after 100 years of marriage would be a big, as in HUGE problem—another reason we’ll just have to put up with each other.

Besides our cars and clothes (No way will Gary fight for my dresses), the rest would be a muddled mess. I’d probably claim everything belongs to me, and he would let me have it all.

Afterward, a load of guilt would take me prisoner. I don’t care to spend the rest of my life with a raincloud over my head.

The biggest reason my husband and I can’t spit up is a conversation that happened years ago—two weeks before our wedding day.

I was with an unnamed someone who knew us well.

“You shouldn’t marry Gary,” she said. “He has never dated anyone else. He will not be true to you.”

I laughed when I shared the exchange with my husband-to-be. We had turned twenty in April, ignored that tidbit of advice, and married in May.

On our most recent anniversary, Gary said, “I think we should send (she who will not be named) a thank you card.”

The note would read, “Challenge accepted.”

No new credit cards for me.

My father often used the old expression, “I wish I had a nickel…” Probably for every time my brothers and I said, “How many more minutes till we get there.” Or, maybe, for each time he successfully made April Fools out of us or beat us in basketball.

The saying may have evolved from the 1920s phrase: “A person would shoot you for a nickel.” That had something to do with an individual who did not value the life of another—meant as a joke, I hope.

“Squeezing a nickel” is an expression reserved for a Scrooge-like person who goes to extreme lengths to save money. “You can’t get blood from a turnip” is also an old way of saying someone is tight with money.

But we were discussing nickels, though I don’t know why. When was the last time you saw a nickel, held it in your hand, or used one to buy something? Anything?

It has been a while since I’ve taken a good look at the Thomas Jefferson coin. It would take a truckload of nickels to make any headway when shopping.

With inflation over the years, the expression got an upgrade. It became, “I wish I had a dollar for ….” But a dollar doesn’t add up to much either. One dollar doesn’t translate to more than a few miles in gas or even cover a bag of M&Ms.

Gone are, “I wish I had a nickel…” and “I wish I had a dollar…” from my everyday conversations. I’ve raised the ante to five dollars.

I wish I had five dollars for:

Every time I’ve misplaced my car keys.

Every time Gary says, “It’s the littlest of nothings.”

Every time I said, “Don’t be a WSB (Wimpy, Sissy, Baby),” to my children and kids I coached.

Every piece of junk email I delete. Better yet, I wish the senders had to pay me $5 to drop anything in my inbox.

I wish I had five dollars for:

Every circular in my mailbox.

Every time I said, “I’m counting to three.”

Every time my mother said, “I’m counting to three.”

Every time one of my brothers said, “I wish I had taken your advice.”

Every time WVU football and basketball teams have broken my heart.

Every time I told my children, “I am not your friend; I am your mom. And one day, you’ll be happy about that.”

By the way, they do seem to be happy about that.

I wish I had five dollars for:

Every time I said, “Use your inside voice.”

Every time someone says “bring” when the correct word is “take.”

Every time I fight the urge to go gray.

Every time I give my adult children unsolicited advice. Ugh.

Sometimes I just can’t help myself.

I could fill pages and pages with these five-dollar wishes, but filling them is like going to the mailbox hoping for the surprise BIG check that never comes.

From 1900 to the 1930s, a nickel bought a loaf of bread, a ride on a trolley, or a movie ticket. Back then, if you had a nickel, you could buy an ice cream cone, a hotdog, or a bottle of pop. A nickel covered a ride on the subway or the bus.

No wonder everyone wished they had a nickel. But not me. I wish I had five dollars—for every time I’ve wished I had five dollars.

VievesVine

Tag: money

Challenge accepted

Nickels