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"Dear Rex - I was kind of cranky on Saturday. It seems that despite working my butt off for these columns, as well as Ebay, an online writing class, and a few other things that I cobble together to cover swim lessons and extra curricular activities, there never seems to be enough left over. (Damn taxes. And those little elves that sneak into my bank account at night and suck me dry.) Lord knows, I&amp;#039;m not materialistic. I don&amp;#039;t spend a fortune on my hair or skin or nails. (Those acrylics? Bye bye! Not my thing.) I thrift store for the kids&amp;#039; clothes - partly &amp;#039;cause I&amp;#039;m cheap, partly because nothing says Kindergarten humor like a shirt from the 99cent store that reads &amp;quot;Ladies Man&amp;quot;. Looking at the budget, I coudn&amp;#039;t understand how two pretty together people, with decent cars and decent incomes, did not have all that left over cash flow each month. That&amp;#039;s where you set me straight. &amp;quot;We&amp;#039;re not frivilous, love,&amp;quot; you reminded me. &amp;quot;We have more than most people have. We have a roof over our heads, occasional meals out, a few modest vacations, not to mention healthcare.&amp;quot; Translation: Stop being a whinebag! Rex, you listened to me vent. I went on and on about how I didn&amp;#039;t want to give up the one thing every month I adored: our housekeeper. You sat patiently while I spoke of person x, y and z who were sending their kids to expensive summer camp while my plans included weekly trips to the beach, free museum day and a one time trip to San Diego. You didn&amp;#039;t berate me for being frustrated over my hair or skin. You reminded me, once again, that I don&amp;#039;t look so bad for my age! And then (just so you readers know that I&amp;#039;m not that selfish or narcissistic) you also reminded me that I work damn hard to take care of this family and that the only difference between us and a lot of other people is that we&amp;#039;re not financing our lives on credit. I kissed you good bye and took off for a birthday party. I came back to find flowers in the fridge. &amp;quot;You needed it, love&amp;quot; you said. I appreciated it so much because 1. I didn&amp;#039;t really deserve it. I was being an inconsiderate arse. 2. Buying fru frut gifts isn&amp;#039;t really in your genetic makeup, so I found that too adorable. Then, to add the Prince to your Charming...while I bought two huge Diet Cokes at the gas station.... I also asked for 20.00 of gas. The lady looked at me like I was nuts. &amp;quot;Someone else has already filled your tank,&amp;quot; she remarked, pointing to the car. There you were, replacing the nozzle - you sneaky devil.  Those little things you do to fill my personal tank don&amp;#039;t go unnoticed, Rex. Don&amp;#039;t think for a moment, when we are hiking with the kids, eating simple dinners, or just chatting at night, that I take for granted the solid person that you are. You make me a better woman. And tonight, just because I adore you (and I rock, in addition to being cheap and whiny) I&amp;#039;ll let you fill my other tank. Hey, it&amp;#039;s what we crazy married folks do. I love you, Rex. I really do. Good night. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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