Recently, my wife and I celebrated our 29th wedding anniversary. Our daughters, EM1 and EM2, got us the same gift this year that they got for us last year. And the year before that.
Nothing.
They forgot it was our anniversary. They only remembered that night when they were asking what was for dinner. I told them that we were doing take-out from one of their mom’s favorite restaurants. They didn’t like the idea so began to complain that we should go somewhere else. I told them that it was our anniversary and mom’s decision was final.
EM2 responded, “It’s your anniversary? How long have you been married?”
I would expect this reaction from someone I met on the street during a random conversation. Not from a child who has been living in my house for 21 years.
My children are not terribly observant, and the example doesn’t end there. About four days later, EM1 volunteered to run out to the mailbox to grab the daily mail. This is something that she does about two or three times each year, and it usually corresponds to something expensive that she ordered for herself that is arriving that day.
She came back from the mailbox with a large smile on her face and announced to the entire household: “Hey, mom. Dad. I got you an anniversary present.”
My first thought was that I had misjudged my daughter all these years and that I should really be more willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. My second thought was, nope. I know this kid too well. Just wait for the other shoe to drop.
EM1 held up a flyer that had arrived in the mail and told us that there was a restaurant in town that was offering a free dinner for one person and a guest. She showed me the cover and asked, “You like this place, don’t you?”
I told her I did. My wife and I have eaten at this place several times and very much enjoy their food. I then told her that I had no interest in going.
“Well, maybe I’ll go then,” she told me. “And I’ll take EM2 as my guest.”
“You don’t need retirement insurance,” I said. “You can’t retire for another 40 years. You don’t even have a job to retire from, yet.”
She gave me a look like a raccoon rummaging through the garbage that has just been pinned in a flashlight beam. “What do you mean?”
EM1 had clearly not read the inside of the pamphlet before announcing the free meal. I told her to take a closer look. She did. When she still did not seem to understand the significance of the pamphlet, I explained that it was an insurance scam. Someone was trying to get people to sit down and listen to a three-hour lecture on retirement planning by bribing them with a free meal.
It wasn’t even a good meal. The cover of the pamphlet showed a lobster tail and a steak as the main course, but when you read the small print, it only offered chicken or salmon as your meal options.
I had fallen for one of these ploys several years ago while my wife and I were at a casino in Las Vegas. They were offering a “One hour demonstration” that promoted some pans and cooking utensils. In exchange for listening, they would give us each ten dollars credit for gambling in the casino. After almost three hours of watching some dude in a chef’s hat make scrambled eggs with a hacksaw to prove how durable their pans were, we began wondering if they were ever going to stop. The only people who had been allowed to leave up to that point, were three people who had already agreed to buy thousands of dollars worth of cooking crap.
As hour four began with no sign of an ending in sight, we gave up and left. We didn’t even get our twenty dollars for our trouble. We also didn’t get fed, despite the demonstration being all about cooking.
Never again. Fool me once, shame on you.
“Are you still going for the free meal?” I asked EM1.
“No, I guess not,” she admitted.
“Do you have another anniversary present for us, since this one didn’t work out?”
“No.”
She looked one more time at the flyer. Her eyes lit up for a moment, and she said, “What if I gave you a new face mask?”
“Why?” I asked. “Are they offering a free face mask along with the free dinner?”
When EM1 didn’t answer my question, I took the pamphlet from her and glanced at the back of the add.
Yup. I know that kid too well.
.
.
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