I got some cards for my birthday. I got two from my sisters and a card from my mother-in-law. I got a card from the bank and a card from my insurance agent. My mother sent me a $500 check, which I promptly gave to my husband to put in the bank, and a card from my husband with ten $100 bills for a new computer. The card with the cash was at the bottom of the stack of cards on the kitchen countertop. The next day, I whisked the cards right into the garbage can. Then four days later when I went to pay the yard guy for spreading mulch, I thought, “Yeah, I can pay him in cash with those $100 bills John gave meeeeeee! OMG.” After I picked myself up from the floor, I called City Hall, who gave me the City Services number, who gave me the City Trash Services number, who gave me the Transfer Station number, and so on. I learned a lot about how garbage is disposed of in East Tennessee. This would all be very interesting if I were not having chest pains, profusely sweating, and suffering a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. The Transfer Station guy said, “Honey, that money is gone. For good.” Later that evening, I had to tell everyone what I had done. I told my mother who advised me NOT to tell my husband, John. She said if she had done that, first, my father would have gone to the beer joint and gotten very drunk. Then he would throw it up to her in all future arguments. My housekeeper agreed that her husband would do the same thing to her and that she wasn't even going to tell her husband about what I had done. I called John and told him. He is a lawyer, so he immediately checked out our Homeowner’s policy and decided we could recoup $500. He then went to play golf. When he got home, he told me that he was way more upset about his terrible golf game then he was about me throwing away $1,000. I’ll never understand lawyers or golfers. I felt so guilty that I couldn't bring myself to buy the new computer. But, I do know what I want for my birthday next year—a check for $1,000!