Everything Will be All Right

After not so patiently answering a thousand question, Janice, the Sears sales lady started pecking at her hand computer, obviously sick of my anxiety. But I couldn’t help myself. Two thousand dollars for a Frigidare oven? Sure we needed one, but a top of the line? I stepped away knowing that I’d been thrown back into the crazy ‘we don’t have enough money’ place.

Now you might think that’s a reasonable price for a range that’s going to fill all needs, that has a look any kitchen could die for, and that I own a check book that can handle the exchange. But the old emotional nemesis kept shouting: “Hey, Adele, it’s too much.”

Jealous of milling customers who didn’t suffer this ancient fear, I dived into a inner conference with my father; "Rescue me Dad! Yes,you always counseled, 'buy the best.' Isn’t the best here a little pricey?"

Jim, husband and new precious mentor, leaned down after moments of respectful silence: “Honey, don’t we want this stove?” Serene face, untouched by my cold feet. I searched that face: Damn, why can’t you get scared too. Is it just because it’s “my” money.

I looked into the mirror across the aisle: Get a grip, Adele. God blesses you with a blooming money tree and you make yourself worry sick? Was I still the nun holding a vow of poverty? Idiot!

I felt better.

“Sure we want this stove,” handing Janice my VISA. I picked up my wallet and turned toward Jim: “Honey, I’m ok.”
“If you say so.” He smiled: We joined hands and left the store. What a partner I married! Someone who understood my silly money noises.

You should know that anxiety attack when buying that stove happened early on in our marriage. Now, fourteen years later, I’m happily calm when it comes to flashy purchases. Only yesterday, I laid down my credit card for a Magellan navigator- excessive price tag - and no one heard a peep out of me.