As it happens sometimes in my family, we have a very busy summer ahead without even really trying. A couple of graduations, a wedding, the annual beach trip. It all adds up pretty quickly.
Which means we have to find time when we can for other activities. We combined the two things a couple of weeks ago as Maria took advantage of a trip to my nephew’s graduation party to take me shopping so she could utilize my greatest skill as a husband: calculating the price of sale items.
I don’t think I exaggerate when I call this talent vital to my success as a spouse. I can’t really fix things too often. I have been banned from helping with painting projects. My cooking talents are largely relegated to grilling.
I don’t blame my wife. She just does a better job at all these things. I wish we had enough money to let other people take care of all these things for us, but life doesn’t work that way so she ends up carrying more of the burden.
These means I have to look to contribute in other ways. I drive both ways to almost all family events so she can relax for the ride. I find a way to take Bridget somewhere fun when Maria needs to just sit back and relax in peace and quiet. And I easily calculate the 30 percent discount for a blouse she might want when she finds a good sale.
Looking back, I can think of two things which helped me reach a Rain Man-esque level in this category. My brothers and I grew up playing Strat-O-Matic baseball. The hours spent huddled over the cards in this simulation game allowed me to quickly calculate batting average, earned run average and winning percentage.
Since I started playing S-O-M back in the early to mid 1970s, I had to learn how to do these calculations in my head. I probably also had at least one brother nagging me to finish quickly so that sped up the process.
Then I went to work at a popular kiosk in Baltimore’s Harborplace in the mid 1980s. The lines would get pretty long in the summer, and we only had one cash register. So you had to learn to calculate the total for an order – plus the sales tax – in your head sometimes.
At some point, most of us could pull this off, but the staff changed and, eventually, I was the lone human calculator left during the busy summer months. I couldn’t understand why no one else could figure out the total of 99 cents, $1.49 and $2.29 (plus five percent sales tax), but really had no choice.
I could apply this skill while working full time at the newspaper, but it doesn’t translate much in the real world. Unless my wife can’t decide if the thing she wants to buy is really worth the cost. That’s where I come in.
I might not be allowed to help paint a bedroom, but I can point out that the sweater she’s holding is now marked down to $22.50. You can’t buy that kind of skill unless you bring a calculator along. And a calculator can’t drive a car or grill up chicken for dinner.