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thSeveral times during this visit I’ve tried to pay for things but my daughter wouldn’t hear of it. At one point she noted that she now makes considerably more than I do, thanks to my recent economic downturn

She wasn’t snide or condescending, but rather expressing a “so glad I can help you for a change” vibe. When I thanked them today for buying me lunch out Abby’s response was, “Thank you for cooking and cleaning.”

Having my daughter pay for groceries or meals out while I’ve been here feels weird. Sure, it’s a cheap price for a maid and cook, and I know she really can afford it due to her own awesome budgeting and frugal-hacking skills.

Oh, and her salary, which is now larger than mine.

For years I’ve been the one who helped, even when I could barely afford to do so. Now I’m the one who gets helped.

Then again, that was my choice.


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th-1Those of you who read my daughter’s anguished non-post already know: There won’t be a baby this time, either.

Abby had been cramping and spotting since Dec. 20, and was fairly pessimistic about her chances. After three previous miscarriages, she knew her body better than anyone. The Dec. 31 ultrasound showed that the pregnancy stopped developing between five and six weeks in.

I didn’t really believe that they’d find a heartbeat. But I’d hoped, which means the disappointment is that much keener.


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