Our youngest daughter called yesterday and part of the conversation gave me pause. It went from a discussion on how much tax was going to come out of her pay (Now that she is about to grow up and join the real world - she was in shock - suddenly maybe she needed to reconsider her political leanings.) to a question of whether my DH and I had our Last Will and Testaments in order?
"Excuse me. I don't intend to go anywhere anytime soon." (And if I do, I have some requests. But I digress.) "Well, I know but it just gets messy when people don't have wills and you have to argue over property. It seems I never get anything good, like furniture." "So all this boils down to the spoils of war?" "Well, not really, just who gets the best stuff." I guess I don't have to worry about her being bereft over my death - she never cared for black anyway. She continued. "You have to plan ahead for this." I was impressed, maybe she was growing up. "I know I'm my Grandmother's favorite grandchild - I've got that one covered." Then, maybe I jumped to conclusions. "I've been working on that for a while now."
"Well, if I remember correctly, you commented that my few pieces of nice jewelry are frumpy, you don't care for used (sterling silver) forks, you think my fine china is tacky, and you told your Grandmother that you did not plan to choose Chantilly as your silver pattern. Given you don't care a thing about cooking and said you would not be caught dead with our bedroom furniture, I think that leaves you with a Victorian sofa, a club chair, a coffee table, and two ottoman." "What about the dining room furniture?" "That was left to your sister by your great aunt." "That figures."
"Why does she get everything?" "She doesn't. She just appreciates some things you don't." "I can't help it if I have good taste and she doesn't." Ouch.
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