Checks & Balances

While I think the whole ineffective Economic Stimulus Package was nothing more than George’s lame attempt to make people like him (or at least not despise him) as he prepares to (finally!) leave office, I was looking forward to getting some of my money back just as much as the next tax-paying American. I actually thought we’d get to do something fun and frivolous with at least a little bit of it.

Tom wanted to buy a golf membership. He doesn’t ask for much, works his tail off, and if playing golf makes him happy, I want him to be able to do it. If you’re going to play a lot of golf, it makes sense (and saves some money) to buy a membership. He has a golf discount card that The Boy got him for Father’s Day, but I also think that just saying he belonged to a golf club would make him all giggly inside.

I was thinking I’d use part of the check to buy our new wedding rings, instead of further stressing my overburdened credit card. I also thought it would make me feel a lot better to pay something extra on my credit card, so I could stop paying ridiculous interest on at least a little bit of money.

Then, I don’t know… maybe I could get my hair done without fretting about the cost. Maybe I could start getting my nails done again. Maybe I’d finally order a tube of that fancy-schmancy Kiss Me mascara I keep hearing about and which my patchy, unruly, scraggly eyelashes could desperately use. Or maybe I’d get a new pair of dangly sterling silver earrings because the only pair I have (recently purchased at Kohl’s) makes my ears hurt.

See? No big, thrilling plans. Just a little extra breathing space between paydays, and maybe a small treat or two.

But what really happened when the $1200 check came?

We knew we’d need to get tickets to fly to Florida for the wedding of The Boy and Fabulous Fiancée, which is fine. That will be a wonderful, memorable, magical day, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I was glad the check was coming so we could get the tickets and not have to worry about saving up to afford them. But there went $700. (When I told “the kids” which flight we’d reserved, they booked themselves on the same flight, and even requested seats right across the aisle from us. How sweet is that???)

This left us with $500, and at least a chance of still managing to do something fun or self-indulgent with the remainder.

Until Sunday.

Brody is in full coat-blowing mode, and our carpet has been more white than tan. You know how it looks when you get that first coating of snow? All white, with small bits of brown grass showing through? That’s our living room. Have you ever met a Great Pyrenees? Have you ever been near one that is blowing his coat? If you have, you are still removing Pyr-hair from your nostrils and ear canals.

Sunday, I got out our trusty 10-year-old Sharp vacuum cleaner, and as soon as I’d done the living room and was about to move into the dining room, it stopped. No whirring, grinding, smoking or smelling hot. It just stopped, as if you’d pulled the plug. It had done that once before, and it’s clearly something electrical. Tom fiddled with it, but this time it was terminal. We cannot be without a vacuum. Especially right now!

So, off Tom went, and he returned with a new Dyson vacuum, which I understand dog-owners find to be really effective and reliable. Plus, it has "attachments." I've heard of these things, meant to allow people to clean upholstery, drapes, stairs, baseboards, and hard-to-reach spots. Doesn't that just sound like more work? And why would I want to pay extra money simply for the means to do more work? I didn't buy them for the Sharp for just this reason, but Tom is very responsible that way. Plus, they came in the box with the actual vacuum.

And there went that last $500.

Tom “test drove” it through the living room, where I’d already (allegedly) vacuumed earlier. By the time he did the living and dining rooms, he’d filled the dirt-cup twice! Now I have to wonder, despite the fact that the Sharp did pick up the hair, how well it had truly been working lately! The Dyson did not unplug itself and go tearing down the street waving its attachments in horror at the sight of all the filth, so that’s a good sign. I hope it manages to last as long as the Sharp did. Before that one, we’d never had a vacuum last longer than about six months to a year.

In general, this is the story of our lives. If we find ourselves in dire need of money for something unexpected and urgent, some resource always turns up. But when we think we’re getting a tiny bit ahead, something comes out of nowhere and smacks us in the head. And the checkbook.

Am I glad we had the check? Sure, because I knew we’d need to get the plane tickets, and if something broke (like the good ol’ Sharp, or the washer, or the car, or the computer, or the – doG forbid – dishwasher) we had the money right there at that moment to repair or replace it, instead of freaking out. I just would’ve liked to have had a teeny-tiny whisker of stupid, wasteful, mindless fun before it was all gone.

I almost feel like I should take our old, faithful Sharp and bury it in the back yard.