A Swift Kick in the Pride

The good news for my wallet is that my credit cards are paid off.

The bad news for my ego is that I needed my parents' help to do it.

I've always valued my independence. I suspect it comes from being both an only child and a latchkey kid growing up, but for most of my life I've been able to fend for myself pretty well. I pretty much taught myself to cook (I make a mean Caesar salad) and I got used to things like laundry and cleaning bathrooms and such just from having to do it anyway growing up. Being male, I can also improvise like nobody's business -- a couple of my tricks while in college were making a TV stand out of a couple of cake cooling racks and rigging a malfunctioning door lock.

The details of how I got into this particular fix are irrelevant, though my plumbing mishaps over the past couple of years (toilet replacement; terminated water heater) had a lot to do with it. My mom knew I was running into trouble, but I was determined to climb out of it myself... my independent streak walks hand-in-hand with some serious stubbornness. Plus, I'm of the mindset that I'm 31 years old; I shouldn't need to ask my parents to help me pay off my credit cards. Add all of that together and you've got one serious humbling coming.

Mom had been checking up on my progress, and I happened to mention last weekend that I was making zero headway with one card because of an interest rate that crosses the border and is full-fledged obscene. So she told me she was putting the money to pay them all off into my bank account. I didn't want her to do it, but I didn't say anything because, well, I probably couldn't have stopped her. (Plus, if I tried to stop her, she'd come down here and kick my sorry ass.)

The money showed up on Tuesday. I paid the accounts on Wednesday.

So that's out of the way. Fewer bills I have to worry about every month.

It's nice to know they've got my back.