"I have it all worked out, Mom. I'm not going to go the cheap, pardon me, frugal route. I'm going to marry a man who will keep me in the style, not to mention the shoes, that I want to become accustomed to." Heather flounced down on the sofa, grabbed the remote and turned on the television.
"Okay, hon, but remember money doesn't buy happiness."
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before but I think it's only poor people who say that--to make themselves feel better."
Mom decides to play along. Anything to avoid listening to another episode of Storage Wars. "So, what are you going to do to avoid falling for a guy with no money?"
"I'll just check him out first."
"What, ask to see his bank balance?"
"No need, Mom. I can tell within ten minutes of meeting someone whether he's some poor schmuck saving pop cans for the deposit refund or someone who knows how to have a good time."
"Sounds like you've got it made then," Mom ended the conversation, heading out to the garden as the television volume was turned up. Remember, Susan, she told herself, you can't put an old head on young shoulders.
Fast Forward to ten years in the future:
"Mom, it's Heather. Can you babysit for me tonight?"
"How come?" her mother asked. Her four year old twin grandsons were almost too much to handle alone, she'd found.
"Stu has gone on another business trip, Mom. Since they made him vice-president he's expected to visit all the plants. It's ridiculous!"
"Can't you get a sitter, Heather? I've got other plans, to tell you the truth."
"I've told you, Mom, that's one of the problems with this neighbourhood. I mean, it's great to be surrounded by million dollar mansions and I love the gate and security that keeps the riffraff out of the neighbourhood. But none of these kids want to or need to babysit. Their allowances almost equal our car payment. I'm stuck home every time Stu goes."
"I guess you never thought being rich would turn out this way, dear."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
|123RF Stock Photo|