Vindication

The other day Adam called to tell me he was heading home from work.  I said, "I have buyer's remorse."

He said, "What did you do?"

I told him about the boy who came to the door selling magazine subscriptions.  There's a sign over my door.  It says, "One gullible woman lives here.  Whatever it is, she'll buy it."

Because I can't resist kids.

I've bought overpriced cookie dough that turned out really awful greasy little cookies.  I've bought Girl Scout cookies that are delicious but about $25 per cookie.  I've bought about 1 cup of caramel corn from a (cute uniformed pint sized) cub scout for $16.

As I relayed my latest purchase to Adam he gently chided, "You can just say no."

I said that no, I really can't.

Then, because he's Adam and the best possible sort of husband, he made me feel better about my weakness for peddling children.  He told me it was a nice thing I did.  (The kid convinced me that since I didn't want any of the magazines, I could have it sent to "the troops" in Iraq.  Troops?  If you're reading?  You're welcome.) 

Tonight Adam was home from work and we were upstairs.  He was telling me about his day and making me laugh and I was telling him that I didn't really want to go make dinner. 

The doorbell rang. 

I said, "You go answer it.  It's going to be a boy selling magazines.  You tell him no."

Amazingly it was a boy, a nice boy, one that we know.  He was selling coupons.  I stood on the stairs, out of sight, to hear Adam.  I would have bet great sums of money (that I don't have because I've spent it all on fund raising children) that Adam would not be able to resist.

And he was not.

We are now the proud owner of a card that cost $20 and has identical coupons to the ones we get in the mail anyway.

I told Adam, "It's not so easy is it?"

Adam said, "I couldn't say no.  They seem like good coupons."

"Of course they are," I said.

And that my dears is when I felt vindicated.