25 To Life: Part 2

OK... where was I?  Oh yes, we were discussing money and spending styles. I don't want to give the wrong idea here; I can spend money frivolously like the next guy, but I like to think I am a bit more conscious of how that action will trickle down in the end.  I kinda understand where Gord gets that from.  He was raised in a military family and money was an issue growing up.  His dad was brutal at pinching pennies, and would never part with his money without a fight... much to the frustration of the rest of the family.  I, on the other hand was raised in a family that also had very little money.  My dad, though, had no real issue with spending it as fast as it came in.  He never hesitated to help someone out (us kids especially) and when he passed away he had precious little left in his account.  But, (and this is important) he was happy.  He really never worried too much about money; he just enjoyed it while he had it.   Both these examples have impacted our lives; Gord wants to spend and not bother with hoarding cash like his dad, and I feel more comfortable when there is a little 'safety net' in the bank from never having one with my dad. (Funny, it just dawned on me that both our mothers took on the role of providing that 'extra cash'.)  But I digress... let's get on with the story.

So, we're sitting down after our Costco shop enjoying the requisite hot dog, when Gord gets all quiet and nervous looking.  After 25 years you get to know when something is smelling off.  My mind started to imagine what would be going down that would make Gord look so, well... guilty.   Did he do something illegal?  Was he having an affair?  Did he have some horrid disease? What??  When faced with impending bad news I have to take a moment to prepare myself so I don't completely loose it right out of the gate.  I'm kinda methodical in that way.  I stopped; stared him in the eye; took a deep breath and asked the question...
"What's going on?" 
The jig was up and Gord was squirming in his seat.  He started off by saying, "...now I don't want you to get mad... I wanted to keep this secret..."  Not a good sign.  At that point I planted both feet firmly on the ground, grabbed the table and waited for the blow to connect.

"I've booked us a cruise for our 25th anniversary to Scandinavia and Russia.  We leave on the 14th of June..."
 
I should have suspected something when he had an interest in the luggage on sale at Costco.  My mind went blank for a moment while I let it sink in...
St. Petersberg? REALLY? Sweden?, Denmark? Germany? Estonia? Amsterdam?  I was struggling to absorb it all before I started slinging questions.  Then it hit me!  "How can we afford this??"  Gord assured me it was all paid for (he had been squirreling money away for awhile), and all I had to do was pack my bags.  

I was speechless... and weak in the knees.  I, as you may or not know, am a HUGE history freak.  And I am particularly fascinated with Russian history.  I've read everything I can find on the Romanov dynasty and it's demise.  Now, I was going to have the opportunity to see it with my own eyes!  Unbelievable.  But that's Gord for ya...

My problem now is whether or not I have a right to be angry about this... after all, that money could have been put to a more practical use.  Yet, how do you get angry about something that is done in love for such noble reasons?  I've kind of resigned myself to the fact that it's a done deal and fretting about it will just sully the experience.  So, I won't.  I'll go on that cruise, dang-nabbit, and I'll enjoy every minute of it, hugely grateful for the experience.

I'll worry about money when we get back.