My husband is a cheap bastard

So we’re at this basketball tournament, and you always have to pay to get in. The tourneys we’ve been to this season have typically carried a charge of $3 per adult, and then the kids 5 and under are free. My youngest is 5 so we’re good there. (I suspect that even if he was 6, we’d say he was 5.) We get to the tournament this weekend, and it’s $4.

Now let me tell you a little something about my husband: he is loath to part with a dollar. Whereas I will part with many of them without a second thought. I suppose someone has to be the frugal one, but he’s to the extreme. The other day I noticed he had on a new Indians shirt and I asked him about it. “New shirt?” I believe was the extent of my questioning. He gave me back an entire business case for his purchase, noting that it was on clearance and there was an additional 30% off sale. Cool, what evs. I was just going to tell you I liked it.

Back to the tournament. That extra dollar per person really screwed with him. Here he is, expecting to hand them a cool six bucks, and now he’s gotta give them eight. He pauses. “Four per adult?” he asks the booster club mom charged with the cash box. “That’s right,” she confirms, and the booster club mom in charge of providing the hand stamps backs her up. “It’s three at the other tournaments we’ve been to,” he informs them. “I didn’t set the prices, sir,” Money Taker Mom tells him. He’s still incredulous at this unexpected expense.

That’s right about the time I notice the sign over the entrance that states that we are at the “[John Doe] MEMORIAL Basketball Tournament.” And there’s a big picture of this kid, who obviously is no longer with us. *sigh* As my husband continues to make the head of the PTA feel like shit for charging so much, I pull his arm. “Pay her and let’s go,” I say. But he’s on his high horse. “It’s ridiculous,” he mutters under his breath. “Highway robbery.”

I point to the sign. “A kid died and you’re arguing over a couple of bucks,” I tell him, my voice barely above a whisper. “Stop being so cheap and pay the goddamn four dollars.”

Yeah, so my husband is a cheap bastard that hates giving money to charity for kids who died. Don’t even get me started on the fact that we could have purchased a “weekend pass” for this tournament and saved another $4.


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