On a morning walk about my hood I walked past and overhead the goings-on of a Seasoned pair.
The prestigious looking gal had too-tight a bun upon her hair, was spectacled and I deduced a foot injury based on the black brace she wore at her ankle. The gentleman caller at her side was twenty years past the designation of a silver-fox but limped with the confidence of one. They had to make their way across the street and she was harping on about the house never having
Money Talk
I knew what they were doing when they went into their bedrooms. My sister’s guessed but didn’t catch on until much later.
I didn’t listen in but I awaited with baited breath and watched for minutes on end for the moment they were done and the door knob began to move. My parents always discussed money matters behind closed doors. If the van broke down, if all three kids needed school clothes, if the dog was ill, if dad wanted to buy a 6-Disc CD changer, if a holiday bonus check was light, if the rent was being increased or if my dad lost his wallet again…my parents would retreat into a closed session in their bedroom to deliberate.
Sometimes loudly.
All I could do was wait to hear their answer to the problem which usually would mean taking something fun away from my kid-sisters and I. My wife and I manage money different and there are very few secrets when it comes to funds at Casa Torres. I wonder then what the Ramblers think on the occasion when our bedroom door is closed.