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My brother’s father-in-law is selling his second home here in San Diego. He lives in Northern California, isn’t particularly interested in trying to move a living room set, and needs a little help in the process. My brother called and asked if we wanted the couch set with the caveat that we take the hot tub in the backyard to the landfill.

Slightly desperate for couches that don’t smell like dog pee (thanks to the house-sitting incident)… cancel that… DESPERATE for couches that don’t smell like dog pee, I called my husband to ask if he could do the job.

(For those who are wondering why we didn’t get some cheap couches off Craigslist yet, I read a Time Magazine article about bed bugs that gave me cause to think twice about touching other people’s furniture. At least I know this set is bed bug free.)

I called my husband to ask if he’d be willing to do the job – assuming he wouldn’t. Silly me. I forgot who I married.

I told him the story and he said, ‘Does the hot tub work?’

‘No sweetie, it’s old. It just needs to be thrown away.’ I said.

‘But is it broken?’ he asked.

‘I’m pretty sure’

‘Could I fix it?’

‘No. We’re…’

‘But I could try’

‘Um. Let’s just take it to the…’

‘I’ll call our neighbor to help. I’ve always wanted a hot tub.’

‘Honey, I only want the couch set. I don’t want a broken hot tub…’

‘I think I have some concrete in the garage. I could pour a pad over the weekend. Tools! I’ll need to pull out my tools. I’ll borrow the tow trailer from grandpa…’

I could hear him furiously scribbling on his note pad.

I clicked END on my cell phone. My part of this conversation was obviously over.

The best part about my husband, he can fix anything. The worst part about my husband, he can fix anything and he knows it.

All I wanted was a couch that doesn’t smell like pee. Now I’m knee deep in a broken hot tub with a husband happily puttering around with his tool belt envisioning outdoor sports watching and beer drinking while sitting in his hot tub.

Sometimes, that man can really make me laugh.

[[ Thanks Stef. I really appreciate the couches]]

I’ll admit, I can hold a grudge for decades. I’m still mad at the boys who threw my bike down a ravine…when I was 7. On the other side of the coin, my husband is incapable of staying angry for longer than 15 minutes… tops.

When it came to the house sitter debacle, my husband was furious. When we had to purchase the cleaning supplies and replacement curtains, he mumbled a lot under his breath while pulling out the debit card.

Hours passed and he was still angry. I stared at him dumbfounded and wondered what he was going to do. Demand repayment for supplies? Demand she replace the floors? Demand she replace the ruined furniture?

He stayed angry for a record 29 hours. During those 29 hours, he carefully calculated the damages and saved the receipts from the purchases. While he wasn’t willing to demand she replace the floors or the furniture, he was adamant my brother pay the cleaning bill since my brother insisted we not pursue anything with my sister-in-law’s sister.

I typed out my brother’s rent bill and asked my husband for the receipts so I could add the cleaning bill to his rent bill.

Do you want to know how I figured out the exact 29 hour time frame of my husband’s anger?

He went to the kitchen, grabbed the receipts, stared at them, and then said, ‘You know what hon, it’s not worth the fight.’ He threw the receipts in the trash and went back outside to rake the lawn.

That’s the end of it.

We have to replace our couches, it’s not an option to leave them. The stains are permanent. We’ve decided to do the best we can and try to live with it until next summer when we pay off all our debt and after we’ve saved some cash.

The house still smells and I get angry every time I sit on the couch. I could fight with my husband over it but I’m not willing to make the mess even bigger.

The only small victory is that we didn’t pay her. Of course, the victory was promptly smashed when my brother told me he paid her anyway.

She will never learn a lesson. I learned mine.

Of course… I’m not sure my mother and sister are as willing to move on. My brother may have to hide from them for the rest of his life.

My husband and I are attending Financial Peace University (Dave Ramsey’s course) again. We attended the series two years ago but I missed nearly half when I lost my day job and started working nights.

The first class was this week and the facilitator asked if anyone was a returning student. My husband and I raised our hands along with one other couple. After the video, we gathered into a small group and were immediately asked if the course had changed our lives. My husband and I said it had and that we lived below our means.

‘Are you debt free?’ a classmate asked.

‘Um. No. We have about 10 grand left.’ I said, ashamed two years has passed and I’m still carrying financial baggage.

‘At least you are working on it. And you’re here!’ she said smiling.

The rest of the group talked about their struggles and goals for about 20 minutes and then we all headed home. It was nice to hear others are fighting the same things as me.

It’s funny that I can openly and fearlessly share every little detail about my debt with you but I’m completely ashamed to share it with the small group – then again, I don’t have to shake your hand every Sunday morning.

If you haven’t been through FPU, you should consider it. The lessons are great but more than that, you have someone to look you in the eye every week who asks… how did you do this week?

Suddenly, spending feels different.