My wife and I had some time to ourselves the other day.  We dropped the kids off at their cousins for an hour and went walking around the university campus (and took some pictures) where we met and fell in love, noting how some things changed and how some things stayed the same.  Until ...


"Oops," I said as I accidentally kicked a folded paper on the sidewalk.  It bounced off Amy's foot and then she kicked it too.

"Hey, that's kind of heavy," she said picking it up.

It was a thick folded white envelope.  We looked at each other in surprise.  I peeked inside and saw a small stack of money and closed it again fast.  

"Oh shit," Amy said and started stuffing it in her pocket.

"What are you doing," I said, "This is probably some psychology experiment to see which morally bankrupt person actually keeps the money.  Someone's probably taking our pictures for their blog right now."  

"So what do we do?"  Amy asked, trying to look covert while clutching my arm.

"Look around to see who's watching us," I said eyeing the cafe tables and balconies above with the suspicion of a Cold War defector.  

"Come on, let's go to the ice cream place," Amy walked ahead with shifty eyes.  

Inside the ice cream parlor, the teen behind the counter watched me suspiciously watching him.  

"Vanilla shake," Amy said right away and quickly sat down in the back.

I browsed, ordered, and sat down next to her.  

"Let me see the envelope," I whispered.


"Not until that big guy leaves," she glanced at this ogrish fellow who seemed to be looking at whatever ice cream flavor I was looking at.  Kind of like those people at the movie store who are always one movie section behind you and you don't know whether to let them pass or race to the next wall.  

We waited.  He got his sundae and left.  

Amy gave me the envelope.  Twenty ... twenty, twenty, twenty, ten, ten, fives, ones.

"A hundred and twenty bucks," I whispered.  First date I've ever been on where I came out ahead.  Maybe I should check myself for bodily fluids. 

"Let's divide it up with the babies and cousins when we pick up the kids," Amy suggested.

"What?  Why?!"

"Didn't it make you happy when you were a kid to get free money from your relatives?" Amy started talking crazy like she was having a Leave It To Beaver flashback.

"Free money?  Relatives?  I'd be happier knowing my parents were looking out for me.  Not giving away money to some kids."

"They're not 'some' kids."

"They're not our kids.  If anything they should be paying us for all that food they eat when they come over."

"I can't believe you."

"We'll get them some lollipops... and a hug."

"...."

"Fine.  Five bucks."  ...Split the hard way.

As I said it I noticed that suspicious ice cream employee staring at me.  Is he listening to our heated conversation?  Am I going to have to put the Choson Chokehold on him?  Wrong place, wrong time, buddy (too bad my black eye was gone now)....

Then he pointed to the shake on the counter I hadn't picked up or paid for yet.

"Oh.  Thanks," I said as I paid him.  Five dollars for a shake?  Where's the Buddy Holly and Marilyn Monroe impersonators?  (Pulp Fiction reference.)


"Let's sit outside and wait to see if anyone comes around looking for a lost envelope," I suggested.  

So we sat at a little cafe table on the sidewalk near the focal point where our moral compasses started spinning. 

"Who loses an envelope full of money on the sidewalk anyways?" I muttered.  Students?  People like my mom?  Drug dealers? 

I was actually hoping we'd see someone walking down the street so we could return the money in person, if just for the appreciative response.  It's nice when it comes from patients/families in the hospital, but it's not the same, even if the stakes are higher, because well, it's my job.  

No one stopped.  It wasn't a lot of money to us, that's for sure.  For some college student, maybe it was.  We waited and watched and played "Guess How Long They've Been Dating" as couples walked by.

"Let's go."

"Yeah, okay."

Soon enough our hour of pretend singlehood debauchery was over.  The Hello Kitty chariot was turning into a cheap faux kitty knock-off pumpkin so we drove back to our relatives house to pick up the kids.  

Amy dropped me off at home on the way to the cousins' house.  I like doing my own things at home, rather than mass babysitting what often turns out to be the pediatric version of 300.


I thought more about the money.  I guess we could call the campus cops tomorrow and ask if anyone called in for the envelope.  I ... waitaminute.  Where's the envelope?  It was gone.  Then I realized Amy took it with her to the cousins house.  Double crossed!  By my partner in life and my partner in crime.  

Is it no wonder she also stole my heart?