Halloween may still be a month away, but there’s a whole lot of death going around in our home.

Not so much death-death as death-talk; as in, how big a party does The Wife get to have when I croak? Turns out, if I get walloped by a bus it’s going to be a huge one!

In my last post I talked about finally getting our wills done. Sticking with our theme, today I sent off my first life insurance premium. Now if, in the next 15 years, I wake up on the wrong side of the dirt The Wife gets at least $900,000. I say “at least” because if the aforementioned bus is involved she’ll get another $150,000 or so (spring for the open bar all night, honey).

Should I happen to be traveling for work at the time… whoo hoo, another $100,000 gets tacked on. Break out the china, it’s gonna be a rager!

The bottom line: should I take a dirt nap The Wife will now receive enough money to invest in a decent mutual fund that will pay out the same or more than my salary in perpetuity thus replacing my income. I am officially worth the same alive or dead now. Actually, I guess I’m worth more dead since I’m certainly not going to work forever should I outlast the policy.

This brings up a new perspective on our lives and finances, however. Can you hear it? The clock is now ticking. We have 15 years to get our act together and I mean really together.

Why 15 years? First, I’ll admit that it was cheaper than longer coverage. Second, in 15 years the kids will be off to college. Third, the house will long since have been paid off and we should have savings and retirement well under way.

So if I’m worm food in 16 years and the insurance policy has run out, but the house is paid for, the kids are gone and The Wife has a couple hundred thousand in the bank I’m thinking she’ll be just fine. She may not throw that party, but she could if she wanted to.

It feels good to be getting these ducks in a row. For about twenty-five bucks a month I know my family will have no financial worries. By-the-way, The Wife’s policy is on its way too; it’s equal opportunity daisy-pushin’ around here.

Nonetheless, I’m keeping an eye open for that bus.

the Dad

© the Dad, Climbing Out, 2009. | 8 comments

Two years ago we planted night-blooming jasmine on a trellis in front of the house. It’s a beautiful plant that grows vigorously. Seriously vigorously!

I really need to trim it, but somehow it has been two months since I dragged the ladder out and took garden shears to the ragged plant. I never cease to amaze myself with my own ability to procrastinate. The irony is once I start the thing I was putting off, it invariably is done in half the time I thought it would take.

This week marks the sixth week, count ‘em 6, since I typed the words “Last Will and Testament” and still it is not done. Time to tell you guys about it so either a) I will be held accountable, or b) I will be mocked heartily.

About my death…

Personally I think being buried in the backyard under a tree would be awesome. Just plant me then plant an acorn on top and come back to visit in 20 years or so, you know?

The Wife and I bought the will package for our state for $25 and have finished filling it in. It’s kind of amazing how simple it can be. Years from now when we are worth millions, of course, it will be such a chore. Today all that seems to matter is to be totally clear on who we want to take care of the kids if we die.

All that is left is to print it out and have it notarized. I’ll keep myself from mentioning the black ink cartridge is nearly empty — those things are pricey! So we are surely only a few days from having our Wills complete, right?

Right?!

Procrastination. Ugh. Get off your butt, Dad, and get it done!

I wonder how our notary feels about night-blooming jasmine.

the Dad

p.s. we got the forms from US Legal Forms

© the Dad, Climbing Out, 2009. | 4 comments

“Hello?”

“Hey, man, my life just got a lot easier!”

“Oh yeah, what’s up?”

“My wife just got the first of three inheritance checks for fifty thousand dollars!”

“Oh no…”

My first reaction really was dismay when a dear friend called me with this news last week. I know his and his wife’s relationship with money and Stuff and I feared this could be the end of their marriage.

He assured me it was going to be great and we hung up as I offered my congratulations on their new found wealth.

Isn’t it funny when you learn a big life-lesson (like how to make money behave) how you desperately want to save everyone else from the mistakes you made? The instinct is so strong I want to shake people sometimes. That night my stomach was in knots as I agonized about whether or not to offer my opinion on how the inheritance could be a blessing to their lives and marriage instead of a nightmare.

Was our friendship strong enough for that? Was it my place to say anything at all? Or perhaps, as a friend who knew their typical motus operandi, was I obligated to offer a sane perspective?

The Wife let me ramble for a while and she agreed a very gentle email would be acceptable, but to be ready to shut up if it was unwelcome.

“Unsolicited Money Advice” was the subject line I wrote to the very short email. “I do not want to over-step our friendship, but I want to just love you guys and see the inheritance be something great for you that changes your lives for the better. I recommend listening to this whole call. Can’t wait to hear what you do.”

No response.

Ugh. I hoped the friendship was okay…

Then, two days later, the phone rings. They had a huge fight. “Biggest one we’ve ever had!” Reeeally?

Note my not-surprise.

He told me the details a bit, “She said it was her money and she was going to do whatever she wanted with it. I said, ‘Oh yeah? What have you been living off of for the last ten years then?!’”

Yikes. Seeing things as yours and mine instead of “ours” never worked well for us either.

“But we worked through it and we’re committed to being smart with this money. So — what should we do?”

Oh God. Wait. I wasn’t asking for this kind of responsibility! Well, I guess I was. I got my open door.

Then he listened. Really listened while I talked about never borrowing money again, living with a written budget, paying off all their consumer debts including the 401k loan (“Really? Why? I’m just paying back myself.” — sigh), putting aside six months of expenses for emergencies, funding Roths for each of them, giving some away, blowing five thousand on a vacation, and putting the rest toward their mortgage.

He had a bunch of questions like losing the “benefit” of writing the mortgage interest off on his taxes (I did the math for him and showed him why that was dumb) and we talked for quite a while. In the end what came out of his voice was gratitude. I was so thankful to be able to share what we are learning and help a friend — seeing as that has not gone so well in the past.

It is a big thing to suddenly come into money and it is so easy to feel like one deserves to blow it on Stuff. Taking the longer view is not nearly as fun, but they are doing it.

Guess I was afraid for no reason. I think this really will change their lives forever. Thankfully it didn’t change our friendship.

the Dad

© the Dad, Climbing Out, 2009. | 4 comments