Pipe Dreams

We got together with some friends: 3 husbands, 2 wives, and a whole lot of kids running around in my tiny house (and this was after running around in the park for 3 hours!) I played the good hostess: pizza, chips, salsa, popcorn and beer all around while playing referee/coach to the kids and babying the baby (I’m really getting good with this multi-multi-tasking thing!)

The conversation: investing. Who’s money? Mine, his, ours. The idea: if each family had $10 thousand to spare, let’s all pool it together and make millions in the stock market! If not the stock market, maybe have a brilliant idea, invent something, and again make millions! The three guys were all excited, spouting out plans to lure investors, suggesting companies (evil vs. good) worthy of our time and money, checking out stocks in real time (the I-Phone came in handy), naming billionaires who have done it (and bygosh, why couldn’t we!)

The guys were about to pee in their pants with the excitement of spending money they didn’t have. The other wife and I ate the chips and rolled our eyes. Patiently, we listened to their pipe dreams, nodding our heads appropriately. They were like children who have just cracked open a piggy bank. They wanted the yachts, the beach house, the Learjet, and a small private island – all they had to do was play the stock market: buy low and sell high – just how hard can it be! Now, show me the money!

Calmly, the other wife said: if she had to trust her money with anyone in the room, it would be with me – the only other woman in the room. I beamed with pride. My husband laughed (laughter stopped short with my evil eye). He claimed I was too emotional and could not be trusted with money (such bravery to speak about me like that, even if in jest). He said I think emotionally. What does that even mean?

But then again, much beer was imbibed that night, and so the discussion and dreams became more grandiose and eventually dwindled down to nothing. The night ended and we returned to reality. Pipe dreams to be continued at the next smoke-out.

That night, as we snuggled in bed, I asked my husband again if he would trust me with his money. “Yes, of course I would trust you. You have really good judgement,” he said. Good answer, honey. See how fickle men can be depending on the company they are with? Now who’s thinking emotionally.