Ann Ipock
             Humorist, author, speaker

 

 
Columns
  


Georgetown Times

Honey, I shrunk the bank account

By Ann Ipock                                                             May 16, 2007

“You have got to stop spending money!” was exactly what Russell said to me when he met me at the back door, loaded with packages, after my recent shopping trip.
What, was he kidding? That was like saying, “You’ve got to quit breathing,” or “You’ve got to drive the car without wheels,” or “You’ve got to re-sod the entire lawn.” OK, maybe that last one was a stretch.
Hey, wait a minute! I DID re-sod the lawn one time right alongside Russell as we knelt, plugged and sweated, in the yard of — all things — a rental home! Yep. We’re not right and we know it. The sad thing is we never even got so much as a “Thank you, how do you do, last month is free,” (ha!) from the owner. And the water bill nearly sent us to bankruptcy court. If I knew then what I know now!

At least women soften the blow when they’ve got bad news for husbands. We say, “Honey, we need to talk.” I once heard on TV that those are the worst five words a man will ever hear coming from his wife. Probably not in my house, though. Instead, it would be, “Honey, we are overdrawn again,” or as I like to say, “Honey, I shrunk the bank account!” But y’all, isn’t that what they make Redi-Reserve for? I figure this way I’m doing my patriotic duty: I’m helping the national economy to stay afloat, giving someone a job at the bank that would otherwise not have a job, and keeping the stores in business, thereby able to open each and every day. See, it all makes sense.

Nevertheless, I have learned to pre-plan when I need certain items. I sort of set up the scenario. And if I say so myself, I’m getting pretty good at it. That is why, when Russell recently walked into our bedroom and saw my jewelry scattered all over my dresser he said, “What’s going on?” But don’t worry. I had the right answer. I said, “Obviously, I don’t have enough room for all of my jewelry.”
Without missing a beat he said, “Well, that means you have too much jewelry.” “No it doesn’t,” I said. Then I went on to explain that I’d found this darling little jewelry cabinet that I must have. It’s a Queen Anne style (like he’d care), available in walnut or maple (like he’d understand the difference) and it’s made with a lid to hold rings and earrings and several to hold necklaces, more rings and more earrings. He huffed. Men just don’t get it. They need Delta Champion Truck Toolboxes to hold all of their widgets and gadgets, tools, golf clubs, hunting equipment and the like. All we women want is a decent jewelry cabinet. Life is NOT fair, I tell you.

Recently, Russell and I opened new checking accounts at the same bank. (I know, I wasn’t thinking this thing through.) As before, we each have a separate account, but we are both check-signers for each account. I made a mistake, y’all and let Russell see the online password to our account. Let me tell you, it has been heck around here explaining why I spent $95 at the nail place — no, no, not Lowe’s Home store. I’m talking about Luxurious Nails, as in, beautiful hands, feet and nails. He didn’t buy my cockamamie story about needing special nails to hang some new ginormous pictures. (At least with my spending in the grocery store he doesn’t question the grand total. Once again, that probably explains why I love to buy groceries.)
Until now, I’ve tried every trick in the book to keep him in the dark about my spending habits. I’ve bought plants and put them in the ground before he came home from work and saw the used pots. I’ve bought clothes, slid them to the back of the closet and said, “Oh, this old thing?!” when he commented on my wearing something “new.” My conscience allowed this because “this old thing” could be anywhere from two days to two months old. I’ve ordered stuff in the mail and hid it right before the UPS man even left.

But now that Detective Russell is on to me with my new checking account, I guess I’m going to have to do what millions of Americans did before the invention of checking accounts, savings accounts, debit cards, credit cards and store accounts: I’m going to have to resort to spending CASH! Now, let him try to track that!

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