or, a Seinfeldesque weekend....

Earlier this year I lost an uncle, which was quite sad. It also jostled my parents to get their affairs even more in order than they already were, which was pretty much in order anyway. So we were all given copies of the latest will, and lists of accounts, and all that fun stuff.

The first thing I noticed when feverishly going over the will (naturally, to see how bountifully I will benefit from their demise) is they misspelled my Favorite Younger Sister's name throughout. Darn that copyediting eye! So when The Time comes, I shall cleverly and legalistically argue that, since my Favorite Younger Sister is NOT the person named in the will, the remaining siblings can split the goods three ways instead of four. Score!

But surprisingly, this is not about me, but instead about my Favorite Husband, whose parents are a good ten or fifteen years older than my parents. They lived through the Depression, and have a slightly different mindset. Sure, my parents were both born in 1934, and lived through the privations of WWII, and somewhat remember, through THEIR parents, to be prudently conservative when it comes to money matters. But they don't hold a candle to my inlaws.

My Favorite Father-in-Law, for example, actually jumped freight cars and hoboed around for a while just like the "King of the Road" song you used to hear when Mojo was a child. (He is also convinced that the Communists were preparing to take over the US any moment and McCarthy did a Great Public Service holding those hearings, but that is another matter.) Now approaching 90, he hasn't been doing all that well the past year or so, and my Favorite Husband thought it would be prudent to make sure HIS affairs were in order, as well.

The attempt went something like this. The Favorite Father-in-Law tends to yell at times to get his point across, so you are forewarned.

FAVORITE HUSBAND: Dad, do you have all your affairs in order? Your will, all that stuff?

FAVORITE FATHER-IN-LAW: Oh, yes! I'll take care of you! You're gonna make out like a BANDIT! Not like MY father! That bastard never gave me NOTHING! I made sure I MADE something of my life so I could SPIT IN HIS EYE!

FH: Um, okay, Dad, but that's not what I'm getting at. I just want to make sure--

FFiL: What pants size are you?

FH: What?

FFiL: What's your WAIST size?

FH: Uh, 35 inches.

FFiL: I wear a 38!

FH: Okay. Now, about your will--

FFiL: I have a whole STACK of pants I haven't WORN, yet!

FH: That's great, Dad, but--

FFiL: I bought them on SALE at the DOLLAR STORE!

FH: Okay, so we have the will in your safety deposit bo--

FFiL: I HAVEN'T HAD THEM SHORTENED YET!

FH: Dad, I don't really care right now about your pants.

FFiL: YOU COULD WEAR THEM! They're BRAND NEW!

FH: Yes, but right now--

FFiL: FREE PANTS! They're YOURS when I DIE!

FH: I'm just making sure your affairs--

FFiL: They're GREAT PANTS! NOTHING WRONG WITH THEM!

FH: Okay, Dad, you've made your point. Now about--

FFiL: DON'T BE A FOOL and GIVE THEM AWAY for NOTHING when I DIE!

FH: Frankly, Dad, I think I'll have different priorities than worrying about your pants.

FFiL: They're easily worth FIFTY DOLLARS APIECE!

FH: This really isn't going the way--

FFiL: But I'm GIVING them to you!

FH: OKAY, Dad! On the day of your FUNERAL, I'll be RANSACKING your house looking for PANTS!

FFiL: There's NO NEED! I'll LEAVE THEM FOR YOU ON THE BUREAU!

Let us close the door on this debate for now....

Mojo