Found Money (my writing club entry for the month)

One day, not long after John and I got married, John put on a coat that he hadn’t worn for a while. He stuck his hand in the pocket and pulled out a $20 bill. When I asked him whether he had missed the money when he originally lost it, he said that he hadn’t lost the money. He then explained to me that he often purposely seeded his clothes with money because it was so much fun to find it later. I didn’t really understand this, but I agreed that it was fun to find. I think we ended up going out for dinner. I could understand the beauty of found money. I’d experience it before.

When I was in junior high and high school, I (or really my parents) was forced to pay large sums of money to be able to participate in free public education. However, at the end of the year, if I hadn’t lost any books or incurred any fines, they would give me back a refund. The refund wasn’t much. But by that time, I couldn’t even remember how much I’d originally paid. I was just happy with the found money that my dad would let me keep and use for whatever I wanted.

And then in college I was introduced to book buyback. Again, I’d originally spent quite a bit of money for those textbooks. But at the end of the semester, when I was thoroughly sick of the subject and its books, I was happy to accept a paltry amount for those same books. It was money that wasn’t already dedicated to rent or food—something a little extra to do with as I pleased. You see I had already been schooled in the fine art of found money.

And that brings me to the biggest type of found money: taxes. Now, deep down, I know it was originally my money. But I can’t help being happy when I find out how much I’m getting back each year. Admittedly, I’m in a pretty good place for taxes. I’m not self-employed; in fact, I’m not employed at all. But John’s not self-employed either. We are married, have lots of dependents, and are on the front end of a mortgage. John doesn’t make too much or too little. His employer courteously takes out the taxes each month and I never see the money. I don’t even see the stub because John has direct deposit and is emailed his pay stub. I never miss the money. And, frankly, if I got it every month I’d probably fritter it away on frivolous things like diapers or milk.

But, in January, when the government tells me that I’m entitled to $3000 of my own money back, I can’t help getting excited. I plan big projects like a new play set for my backyard or a new sewing machine. I plan vacations and pay off credit cards. I know I could accomplish the same things with some dedicated saving, but that would take work and discipline, things I’m a little short on. So, call me crazy, but I like taxes, or at least the refunds. And I say, “Hurray for April 15 and all kinds of found money.”