Benjamin, Benjamin
We sold something and were paid in cash. Which means I had a good ol’ fashioned 100 dollar bill in my hands. But, frankly (franklin?), I am opposed to the hundred dollar bill. Because of Ben.
See his face?
I hate his look. He’s all, “As if you really need those cute shoes!” “Budget, budget, budget!” “A penny saved is a penny earned.”
“But, Ben,” I say, “I know this is my grocery money, but….that book! It looks so good!”
“But, Ben! That purse is on saaaaaaale!”
“But, Ben….it’s for the children!”
So no fun hanging out with Benjamin.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.
August 30th, 2010 at 4:26 pm
Don’t you fall for it, Kelli! We are well beyond the you-can’t-have-any-fun-because-I-had-a-horrible-childhood guilt trip from Benji.