“Daddy, are we at Mr Steve’s yet?” “Not yet baby, I have to go to the ATM real quick to get some money.” “Why?” “Because… because I need money. Don’t worry about it, 3 year old.”
*In my brain* “Is this ok? I mean the car is 20 feet from the ATM and I can clearly see them, I can leave them in the running car, right? … What the fuck has the evening news done to me?”
As I’m walking back to the car I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that they weren’t kidnapped or asphyxiated. Now that I can relax, my eyes shift to the ground, where I see a dollar. “A dollar!” I yelled as heads on the busy sidewalk swivel in my direction. “I found a dollar!” I nearly screamed it as I held it high in the air, not sure they had heard me the first time. It flapped back and forth in the cold breeze, much the same as a flag at the top of its pole on a windy day. The strangers seemed sated in my excitement and continued on their way across main street. “Jealous” I said under my breath as I walked back toward my neglected children.
I jumped into the car with an energy I hadn’t had all day, or week for that matter. “I found a dollar guys!” “Can you turn on the Mickey Mouse song, daddy?” “Ugh… whatever.”
We pulled away from the curb and head to Steve’s. As soon as we walked in, I had to bring him up to speed, “I just found a dollar in the street. It was awesome.” “Sweet!” He said, but I could tell he wasn’t really feeling it. “Yeah! I couldn’t believe it.”
“Katie,” I exclaimed as we walked into the house 2 hours later, “I found a dollar in the street today.” “That’s great, honey.” “Yes, it is great. Take a look,” I said as I held my wallet open, “it’s even pretty crisp.” She was already walking down the hall before she could see how nice my new dollar looked in the front of my billfold. Slightly annoyed, I follow her down the hallway, “yeah, it was just sitting on the curb, shocked me when I actually saw it. Couldn’t believe my luck. Here take a look,” as I hold my wallet open one more time.
She wasn’t interested. She had already moved on to conversations focused around bills and ‘to do’ lists for the week. “… so her pre-K meeting is Tuesday morning. It would be awesome if you could go. Did you pay the daycare bill from December? That dollar you found will cover about 1/700th of it.” “It’s a nice one,” I said, more to myself than anyone else, “I feel like maybe it should be worth two.”
Trying to put her relaxed about attitude about my awesome day behind us, we piled in the car to head to the restaurant. If she didn’t want to talk about my dollar, I wasn’t interested.
Sitting at dinner, Allison says “Mommy, daddy found a dollar.” “I saw it, honey,” She replied to our 3 year old, “that’s really great.” “Well, you didn’t actually see it,” I mumbled under my breath. “Ok, pull your wallet out,” she complies. “It’s a very nice dollar, honey. Was it laying face down or face up?” “Face up!” I proclaimed excitedly. “It was just tucked right into the curb and… wait. Are you patronizing me?” She laughed that laugh that told me I was the butt of her joke. I pouted.
The bill comes and Katie offers the waiter her credit card. I no longer care. When he returns, she asks me “what’s 20% of $32?” “Well,” I replied, “it’s $6.40 but he was pretty attentive and he was patient with the kids. I feel like we should throw a few extra bucks on there.” “Wait,” she said, confused. “I think we were overcharged for the kids’ food, they were charged for the adult meals.”

“Whatever,” I said, half way out the door.

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