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Last night my hubby and I had a “mini” date. I had the Monday blues and whined via text the entire day how I did not want to go grocery shopping, that I just wanted to go home, veg out and go to bed early. He had me pick him up at the shopping village down the road from his place of work, and told me to park the car and come find him. Once I found him playing on the giant armadillo (he he, not really true), he guided my exhausted, spit-up-soaked self into a wine bar. I protested and mumbled things about groceries, but he just ignored me. I then proceeded to rattle off expenses and bank accounts to him, and he just sat across from me patiently refusing to listen. After we ordered he handed me a small gift. The only occasion: just because he loves me (It was a coveted butter dish from Anthropologie).

I am a very difficult woman toΒ  romance because all I see are the things that we should be doing during that time, or the other ways our money should be spent. It’s hard for me to view spending money in marriage as an investment. The money spent on our date is not just money wasted. It’s an investment in our marriage. It not only buys us Riesling and pear Gorgonzola pizza, layered with caramelized onions, basil and honey. It buys us some intimacy, quality time, extra hand holding and eye gazing time. My hubby has always been able to see it that way. Six years later and I’m still focused on the dollar signs. I guess that’s why we have each other. Balance.