My husband is helping his parents — with my money
Toddlers and a two-bedroom basement apartment are a tough mix on the best of days. Throw in a pot of spaghetti, and it’s a short path to big chaos.
A small apartment feels messy fast, and what keeps me going is that I know we won’t be here forever. I’ve been putting money away for a while. Even as a teen I was careful, and now that Dovid has finished law school and landed a good job, we’ll be out a bit faster. Soon, we’ll be able to buy a house.
It’s while I’m washing Shua’s hands that my phone rings. It’s Dovid. Sometimes, he’ll check in when he’s at work, but rarely during the evening Zero Hour. “Hi. It’s a spaghetti zoo here. How’s work?”
“I was just put on a new deal,” he says. “It’s going to be a great experience for me. But that’s not why I’m calling.”
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