Don’t tell your mom

I have a confession to make: I have been known, at times, to hide things from my wife.

Now I’m not talking about anything juicy like elicit affairs or felony charges, just tiny little teenie weenie innocent white lies that hurt absolutely no one except of course for me if she ever found out about them.

Let’s take money, for example. We have “our money” that we use for frivolous things like the mortgage payment, groceries, and various supplies that keep the children living, breathing, and slime-free. And then I have “my money” which I hide in strategic places around the house to utilize for only the most important things like golf, video games, and Culver’s Double Butterburgers.

How do I acquire “my money,” you ask? Well, I do all of the grocery shopping and just cleverly utilize the cash back feature. I buy what I need, take a couple of bucks out, and no one is the wiser. It’s a victimless crime.

Last week my wife asked me to go to the store and pick up a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread and I took my daughter along. I bought my items, took out $80 so I could go golfing the next day, and headed back home.

Later that night she checked out the bank account app and noticed the charge at the store was $86.75. She freaked out a bit, but I always deflect it with some good old fashioned lawyer-like rebuttal and quick attention deflection.

Observe.

“Sorry, I got to the store and remembered we were out of bathroom stuff. So I also got some shampoo and what not and…well, you know with prices these days… But you know who I ran into when I was there? Sandy Dunby! Remember her? No? You know, she was the one at our wedding with the hair thing. No? Huh, well I guess I better go put away the laundry.

And that’s it. Case closed. Well, usually. This time my daughter was standing there and heard what I said and quickly sold me out.

“We didn’t get any shampoo…” my daughter says.
“No?” replies my wife. “What did dad buy then?”
“He bought some milk, some bread, and a bunch of money.”

As soon as I heard that, I knew the jig was up. I had no choice but to come clean.

“I’m sorry, babe, I should have told you,” I said. “But I took out some extra money to set aside for your Mother’s Day present.”

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