“Debits on the left and credits on the right … or is it the
other way … credits on the left …, oh bother!”
What? I rounded the door and came into the living room to
find a wizened man wearing a pair of green eye shades studying over a pile of
papers and muttering to himself. He was making notes on a yellow pad with a
Number Two pencil.
“Hey C.W.,” I said. “What’s up?”
He looked at me and frowned beneath his eyeshades. He looked
down, wrote something on the tab, and looked back. “Quiet,” he said, “I’m
working on a project.”
“What kind of project?”
“A financial one. For Mrs. Big Dope. Real important. Be
quiet.”
“You’re working on a financial project for my wife?”
“Yes. Top drawer stuff. She’s excited.”
“Stop, stop, stop,” I said. “Look at me.” He straightened
up, laid his pencil aside, and glared.
“What?”
“You tell me.”
“I’m preparing a budget for your family.”
“A what?”
“A budget. Your wife hired me to do it and you will love it.
She says you’ve lost control of the finances and we’re going to make your family
solvent again.”
“Oh really?”
“Quite. But you’ll love it. Want to hear some of the neat
expenditures she’s budgeting for?”
“Why not?”
“Okay. Here goes.” He read from his yellow pad. “A new home
with a five-acre dog pen and ten heated dog houses; a twelve-hundred foot workshop
for you; a complete set of Powermatic tools and equipment for the shop; a ‘round
the world cruise; a caretaker’s cottage and full-time caretaker; a fully
equipped gazebo for ‘Happy Hour’ with total temperature control; a full-time
maid and a full-time cook; a guest house for her dog friends; a library and
writing studio for you; and a separate cottage and new car for me.”
“Will you get serious?”
“Oh, I am. We're going to make your family happy again.”
“And who is going to pay for all this?”
“No problem,” he said. “We’ve got it all worked out. First,
we’ll cancel your guitar lessons and double your time between haircuts. We’ll
make your family balanced again.”
“You think that will balance the budget?”
“Of course not, silly. That’s just phase one.”
“What’s phase two?”
“The genius of our plan is phase two,” he announced with
pride in his eyes. “We cut the family income by directing twenty percent of your
monthly revenue from all sources to donations for the Sheriff’s Department to
help in protecting all our treasures. We’ll make your family safe again.”
“That is the most illogical thing I’ve ever heard. Can’t you
see the insanity in saying you’ll pay for more with less money?”
“Well,” he said in a huff. “Nobody says so when the President
of the United States says it.”
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