The art of negotiation and a glimpse inside our marriage

When you live next to the world-class cross-country ski wonderland featured in the 2002 Salt Lake Olympic Games,  you’re overstretched on your budget but REALLY want your kids to learn to cross-country ski, this is what you do.

Bode’s buddies are taking a two-month-long course and I really really really want both of the kids to do it but Hadley is extremely resistant, which makes me sad because she’s the one who shows the most promise. In fact, when we cross-country skied in Crested Butte a couple of years ago, our instructor told her if she was local, she’d recruit her for their Junior Olympic Nordic Skiing team. The girl has potential.

But zero motivation.

And we have zero extra money. It has something to do with moving and the thousands of dollars we’ve spent doling out money for a fence, building two rooms in our basement, sprinklers, a new couch (after the new one we ordered was literally falling apart after a month), Christmas (which will be minimal at best) and did I mention Jamie left his iPhone in his jeans and I washed it?

I told my dad to skip out on giving us presents this year and just contribute to the Hadley-Bode downhill skiing fund, which he was glad to do. At least two members of our family will be skiing this winter.

Since I’m in the business of picking my battles with Hadley (and the zero money factor), I acquiesced on the cross-country lessons and decided to focus on Bode. His buddies are taking the course and he’s bored out of his mind after school. I figured it would be an easy sell to Jamie to spend $150 vs. the $300 for both of them. I mean, really. Twice weekly lessons + rentals for just $150?

Plus, for volunteering during class, I accumulate free trail passes for Soldier Hollow. It’s a steal, really.

But I had to sell it to the Banker.

Me: I’m here to negotiate.

Jamie: OK.

Me: I’m signing Bode up for cross-country skiing.

Jamie: How is that a negotiation?

Me: I negotiate like a terrorist.

Other Posts