The Money Lender

A man is, for whatever reason, nervous to ask for money.

I knew I was in for a tough time when I saw that diamond encrusted cucumber in the jeweller’s window. Well, I knew I was in for a tough time when I bought it. Well actually I really knew I was in for a tough time when I got the credit card statement. How was I supposed to know it had such a high interest rate? They should really make that kind of thing more clear, what with it only written across the contract…and in the letter offering me the card…and when the teller in the bank gave it to me. It just isn’t specified enough.

“I need some money”

I was met by a cold stare.

“I won’t say what it’s for because you’ll just think I’m an idiot.”

The face staring back at me made me edgy. I just wasn’t sure what I should expect.

“I mean…I know now maybe it wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made, but I stand by my instincts!”

Still that pale, expressionless face simply stared at me. It had been like this for years, I would be in need of a little financial help, I would come to get it from the one I had spent most of my life with, the one whom shared a bedroom with me for God’s sake! And every time I would slink away with my tail between my legs and nothing but fluff in my pockets.

We had met in an old antique shop some time ago and it was love at first sight. Pale complexion, rosy cheeks, petite, chubby - just the way I like them.

Now, I do admit some of my purchases in the past have been a little frivolous and sometimes downright unnecessary. The combination pillow/toaster for example. Or the revolving bathtub. Or electronic sponge. Or even – dare I say it – the super-hydro-extra-discombobulatory-automatic-uvula cleaner. That time I had been made to feel like I had done a blunderguff or something for Pete’s sake! In my own home!

But no, not this time. Definitely not!

“Okay, listen you! I am the man of this house! I provide the finances and I should be allowed to spend them as a please!”

Again I was met by a cold impassive stare. Shaken and nervous, I continued.

“You’ve controlled the money here for too long!” My face was getting red with anger now. “I’m an adult and I should be treated like one! You’re little Nazi regime has come to an end!” I was shaking with rage and spitting a little as I shouted. “No, no, no. Those little looks you always give me aren’t going to work anymore! I am my own man!”

As a stared at that little face that I had fallen in love with so many years ago, my anger began to subside and I wondered if maybe I should just work a few extra hours a week and pay the money back that way. But then again, I had earned the money in the first place! Although I had passed it on because I knew I would do something silly.

I fought with myself for a long time, deciding what to do. In the end I just smashed that damned judgemental piggy bank and bought myself a pogo-stick.

The End

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