Long story short, my total bad ass husband’s (PTST) new job fell through after he had already quit his current job. So now no one in this house has a job. WE’RE BUMS!
Fortunately we have money in savings and the most supportive friends and family in the world. And when the chips are down and you need a good laugh, no one comes through like they do.
- My dad asked what the cardboard sign will say that we hold up in the Walmart parking lot begging for money. Since the current Walmart bum-in-residence is looking for random acts of kindness, we must raise the bar of cardboard signage above that. It will be a tough act to follow, but it’s always better to be raising the bar than crossing it. (Tennyson; Google it.)
- My parents have offered to let Ralphie live with them, stating they do not want him to be uncomfortable when Mike and I are living under a bridge with the other bums.
- At a recent birthday party, the host announced that all the leftovers would be wrapped up and sent home with us since we have no money for food. He then advised he would be searching our pockets when we left to make sure we hadn’t stolen from him because we’re bums.
- Two spoons returned to me from a cookout became our bum spoons to be used to eat our cans of bum food under the bridge. Note to self: day one of the bum life, get a can opener.
- One family member offered to let us borrow his cane so we could fake a limp and “go down and get on the disability” to avoid bumdom.
- A friend sent us a Thinking of You card holding a $25 IHOP gift card, with all but $3 already used.
- It was suggested that Mike start his own business—BFI. Bum Fights International will be like UFC, only with bums. Not sure how we will tell the difference, but whatever. Motto: Fight to the Death, or Until the Bell Rings at the Soup Kitchen.
When not busy being ridiculed, we have used this time to revisit our budget. (Read: I run the numbers and my total bad ass husband looks at the numbers.) We were in agreement that we will save a great deal of money if we increase the amount of our deductible on our insurance policy. Done. We agreed that we do not need a $200 per month clothing budget, especially since we both dress like bums regardless of our income—or lack thereof. Done. We agreed that I do not need to buy every plant and garden gnome that Lowe’s sells. Not so easily done, but done.
Then I mentioned perhaps we did not need the highest level of Comcast options available. Not gonna lie, I enjoy being one of the last three people on earth who still has a home phone because cell phones are of the devil. And I do not relish giving up my 19 episodes per week of Real Housewives of …. But paying the same amount for cable each month that I would pay to buy a Corolla is insane. Nonetheless, it appears that having every movie ever made—specifically of the Die Hard and Fletch franchises–available at the touch of a button is a necessity to Mike regardless of employment status. So my beloved Aloha Vet and Dog Whisperer are safe. For now.
Finally, I suggested we could stop feeding Ralphie the BlueBuffalo dog food at $50 for a 20-pound bag. And the end of the world was upon us. Apparently I am a fool to think that the DOG should not have more money spent on his food than the humans. You know, just because he’s a DOG. Mike was taken aback at the idea of his little nugget being fed anything less than the absolute best, even if it costs more than gold. So we will be eating canned beans with our bum spoons under the bridge while Ralphie continues to live the life to which he has become accustomed at Grandma and Grandpa’s. Should have named him Golden Nugget…