As a fella that has been known to go to great lengths for a story (walked 20 miles to work, tubed down creeks that aren’t tubed down, went to Bangladesh because my underwear were made there, etc.) I related to Steve and his situation more than just a little. Especially these parts:
This wasn’t how I sold the plan to my wife, though. I assured her the point of the challenge was (at least partly) to help me come to terms with my superior attitude toward money. Confronting my reliance on currency might actually lead me to be less judgmental, I argued.
My wife sighed deeply. “Oh God,” she said. “This is going to be so annoying.”…
…Erin digs a handful of quarters from her purse and reaches across my lap. “Here,” she says to the kid. “Take this. I apologize. My husband is an idiot.”
I think the thing Steve and I have most in common are patient wives. Lucky us.