Ten bucks a day. Wowzers. Seventy dollars a week. $310 a month, three grand a year. My frugal mind boggles at the thought. If I were going to cut a hole in my pocket that big I would spend it on my marriage. I suppose I already get nickel and dimed that much for my kids... lunch money, new binders for their state reports, hand bell lessons, two kids' cell phone bills. Yup, I spend that and I hadn't even noticed. But it isn't so much that I want them to like me as I want to pave their days with music, and sandwiches. And texts. 

 

Recently I forked over money for my relationship. I lost the ruby in my engagement ring in the last century and felt duty bound not to replace it. But last week I visited the jeweler who made it and asked him to show me his rubies. He brought out a little envelope full of red sparkle and I smiled.

 

Yes. 

 

When I came to pick it up he asked if I had been missing it on my finger. 

 

"Well, no, since the stone fell out fifteen years ago." Fifteen years. What was I waiting for anyway? I slipped it on next to two wedding bands, mine and my mother's. 

 

I already know John loves me. Although we answer differently when people ask where we were when he proposed we do agree that I said yes. All I have to do is wiggle my finger to see how the ring catches the light.

 

And it only cost me a month of likes. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Jenny Stein

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