The husband called me at work.  “How much money did you get yesterday?”  He meant from his wallet as he had so helpfully pointed to the thing instead of offering to furnish me directly with the cash. 

“£40″ I told him, and then realising where this was going, “I picked up a bundle of £50 and put £10 of it back.  I saw another £20 in there, but I don’t know if there was more than that.”

“There was supposed to be £80″ he said, rather worried.  I did the math: there’s £10 missing.

“You didn’t spend any of it did you?”  Because that’s what I’d have done.

“Oh…”

“Like on the boy’s trainers* and the packaging to return your xbox**.”

Yeah, we’re real good with the financial stuff in our house.

*Because whilst I’ve known the boy needed new trainers for a while, I was waiting to see if he actually complained or if we could get another couple of weeks out of them.  He complained on Sunday, and although we looked, Marks only had ones even I had trouble getting on his feet, and Sainsburys had nothing in his size.  He ended up getting a pair of light-up ones that he picked himself, so he was happy.
**Because on Saturday night the boy and the husband’s world ended when the xbox died.  We’re hoping they’ll be able to repair it, otherwise it’ll be one very long funeral in this house.

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