Sam is at the computer, dealing with finances (read: harassing me about receipts from four months ago because he doesn't know whether the purchase from quikcheck should qualify as "groceries" or "eating out" or maybe a little bit of both, and, if so, how much of each and this is really important and could I please do a better job at keeping track of these things? Can't I just remember what I purchased in May?)
I am lying in bed, reading myself to sleep.
Sam is staring at a transaction from the bookstore. "Okay, you said it was two books."
"Two books. One is mine, one was a gift. They were the same price." It feels like we've had this conversation before. Twice.
"That's doesn't make sense. If that's true, then each book cost $12.20."
I look up curiously from my book. "That's not right. Books end in point-nine-nine or point-nine-five. Sometimes kids' books end in point-four-nine. Your math is wrong."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, yes it is. Is that without tax and with our discount?"
He gives me the stink-eye. "Yes, twenty percent off."
"We got thirty percent off." I return the stink-eye.
"Oh." clickity clickity clickity "Nope. Still wrong. They could not have each been the same price. Because then they would have been $13.94, and you just said that wasn't possible."
I get out of bed in search of the damn receipt. "I'm going to kill you. In your sleep. Don't fall asleep first tonight."