Tax refunds, wedding rings, and a talent show

Once again my brother is cringing about our lack of financial expertise, as always at tax time. We have way more taken out off our paychecks for taxes than we need to—although initially it didn’t start out that way, it’s just that we never really changed how we were having things withheld back when we didn’t have any money. We always had the maximum withheld because we couldn’t have paid a tax bill for love nor money back in the grad school days. We still do it now because we get a nice big refund every February or March. Matt every year fusses at me for not investing that money during the year—but I don’t get paid in the summer when I’m not teaching, so I need to have some cash on hand. And it’s easy for him to be an investment whiz, since he probably makes as much as Chris and I combined by himself, not to mention his wife’s salary.

As it is, we plug along foolishly giving the government an interest-free loan in exchange for a chunk of money once a year. We got our refund this week and so far I’ve bought Laura’s new glasses and paid off Chris’s student loans (which we’d have paid off this year anyhow, but I wanted them gone), and we’re going today to buy a new washing machine to replace the one that’s been leaking oil on the floor for several years. I just kept slipping a new piece of cardboard under there every so often.

Often we’ll splurge on something this time of year—last year we got Chris’s kayak, and sometimes we’ll buy a piece of art. This year I got a new wedding ring. Nobody in my family will like it or understand why I want it. It’s hard to describe—it’s a wide sterling silver band with a tree engraved on it, and I think it’s beautiful, but it’s certainly not a traditional wedding ring. When Chris and I got engaged, our families couldn’t believe we didn’t get an engagement ring. Well, we were broke and couldn’t have afforded anything really nice, and I didn’t much want one, to tell you the truth. But we finally ended up buying a quarter of a carat solitaire because people were just so upset about it—I worked at a jewelry store then so we got a good discount, but my ring was the smallest solitaire you could really get that was still a diamond, although we did buy the nicer quality stone instead of the cheapest one. And we had these tiny wedding bands, the ones you buy when you’re getting married but you’re so broke you don’t even have a colander.

Well, things have changed since then. We’re not exactly broke anymore—although we still have to watch the grocery budget at the end of the month. And we know better now what we want and like and enjoy—and I don’t think either of us knew that then. We had the kind of wedding we had because we didn’t know what else you could do. The only thing I remember choosing for our wedding that was unusual at all was my bouquet, which was white orchids and very expensive—and people were trying to talk me out of that into something a little more inexpensive-small-town-wedding. Every time we had to choose something for the wedding, all I understood was that I didn’t want what was there in the wedding shops. Our cake topper for instance—they had dozens of those awful plastic bride and grooms, and I wouldn’t have had one of those on the cake if you’d paid me. But I was literally so young and stupid it didn’t occur to me not to have one, maybe to just have flowers instead—or nothing. I ended up buying a ceramic bride and groom that were nicer, but still something like those awful Precious Moments figurines—a little girl and boy, not the image of a married couple I had. I painted the groom’s blond hair black, and after the wedding stuffed them into a box.

So now we do things so often that nobody around us seems to understand—but I think we’re finally about to the point we don’t care. The other night at the Oakdale Elementary Talent Show, Chris declared himself the proudest he’d ever been because our daughter—after a night of watching dozens of kids sing either the latest popular music or old church spirituals—stood up on the stage and told a ghost story about the boo hag, who steals your spirit and possesses your body. Laura did do a great job telling the story, by the way—she was so composed, and the audience was huge (the teachers billed the show by promising that the principal would dance in a tutu and leotard, which he faithfully did—what a good sport). She was pacing back and forth on the stage a little quickly—but she spoke clearly and loudly (most of the kids didn’t) and her boo hag was quite convincing. She got a good moan of disgust at one point. Will loved watching her up there, and Chris is the proudest dad ever (and I’m pretty proud too!). And I was proud watching them all.

Somehow, despite our financial stupidity and poor handling of taxes, we paid off our first big debt ever and have money left over for summer. We have two beautiful weird smart children, different from the kids around them, but kids who aren’t worried about that like we were. And I got my new wedding ring. It’s not classic. I may not want to wear it forever. And I don’t care. If I get tired of it, I’ll get a new one—and for right now, I love it, and the fact that our marriage has so far survived graduate school, being dirt poor, having two children, and my getting tenure. The rings may not last, but what they stand for will.