"What else do you love, Lisa?" "Fiscal solvency." "Oh. Yeah, me too."
Ellie and I are adults know. If we need proof of our status, we can look at our college diplomas, our dog, our car payments, our three little tax deductions, and the fact that we now make enough money to be concerned with tax deductions.
As adults with three children and several pets depending on us for support, it’s our responsibility to establish financial security for our family. About two months ago, we met with a peer-recommended financial advisor to examine our fiscal situation and start our first retirement savings account so we can finally start complaining about how much money we need to set aside for retirement since Social Security will go bankrupt long before we retire.
I like to think we’re in good shape financially. We pay our credit cards off every month. We have a little cushion in savings. Our student loan debt has a monthly payment we can afford, probably for at least the next 300 months. We even have college savings accounts for all three kids, and I’m proud to say that Abbie’s is already into triple-digits. The boys’ would be in triple digits already if the rate of return in their accounts were closer to 300% instead of the –4% we’ve been getting.
The advisor looked at our finances and life situation, pored over various retirement accounts, and sold us on the best option for us right now: More life insurance. Once our check for the premium cleared, he agreed to open that retirement account we wanted. We invested a significant sum for our modest means, enough money to keep all three kids properly fed and clothed for upwards of two-and-a-half weeks.
In the ensuing 30 days, our retirement savings lost 10% of its value, the life insurance premium came back 30% higher than expected, and our advisor jumped to a different investment firm never to contact us again. That last one particularly peeved me since he ended our initial meeting with a line about building a lifelong relationship with us. And I was so proud of myself for calling “shenanigans” on his story at the time by pointing out that he was 25 years older than us, and would likely retire before our kids could drop out of college to blow their college savings backpacking across Europe, or possibly Australia.
Yesterday, we met with our new financial advisor. He had some work to do to smooth over the damage caused by their previous representative, though to be fair they weren’t too happy with the way the previous guy left either, taking clients, trade secrets, and some company-supplied monogrammed pens with him. Just to show our level of disdain, we walked into their fancy offices with all three children in two, and us dressed in our work uniforms, Ellie in hospital scrubs, and me in a spit-covered t-shirt and jean shorts.
I’m usually the one who takes care of the finances in our family, but I’m also the one who usually takes care of the children. Therefore, I made sure our dependents were content and relatively quiet while Ellie did most of the listening. This was okay since the meeting was less of an intense financial overview, and more of a “get acquainted” and “give us one good reason why we should give you one more cent instead of burying our savings in old formula cans in the backyard.”
I caught enough of the conversation to know that we weren’t being suckered into buying more life insurance. The kids were mostly well behaved. We set up the meeting during the twins’ nap time, and they obliged by napping during the entire meeting’s initial five minutes. At least they were satisfied sitting in their stroller and quietly staring at the shade for the rest of the meeting. Abbie was more of a handful, running around the office, grabbing things within her reach like those golf balls on the floor,* and finding shiny expensive objects to leave her fingerprints all over. I mostly kept her placated with a few silent toys, Fruit Rings, Goldfish, more Fruit Rings, and a little water. She threw one tantrum, for which I had to take her outside. She calmed right down as soon as she saw our car, and fortunately stayed calm once she realized we weren’t headed back home yet so I could go back inside.
The advisor did a good job of reassuring us. He pointed out a couple of mistakes from the initial visit like some incomplete forms and a stated goal of “aggressive income” when obviously we want “aggressive growth.” He was friendly. He never winced when Abbie screamed. Best of all, he’s only about 15 years older than us, giving him a chance of still practicing when the kids need money wired to them in a hostel in Dresden.
* He’s a financial advisor. Of course he plays golf.
As adults with three children and several pets depending on us for support, it’s our responsibility to establish financial security for our family. About two months ago, we met with a peer-recommended financial advisor to examine our fiscal situation and start our first retirement savings account so we can finally start complaining about how much money we need to set aside for retirement since Social Security will go bankrupt long before we retire.
I like to think we’re in good shape financially. We pay our credit cards off every month. We have a little cushion in savings. Our student loan debt has a monthly payment we can afford, probably for at least the next 300 months. We even have college savings accounts for all three kids, and I’m proud to say that Abbie’s is already into triple-digits. The boys’ would be in triple digits already if the rate of return in their accounts were closer to 300% instead of the –4% we’ve been getting.
The advisor looked at our finances and life situation, pored over various retirement accounts, and sold us on the best option for us right now: More life insurance. Once our check for the premium cleared, he agreed to open that retirement account we wanted. We invested a significant sum for our modest means, enough money to keep all three kids properly fed and clothed for upwards of two-and-a-half weeks.
In the ensuing 30 days, our retirement savings lost 10% of its value, the life insurance premium came back 30% higher than expected, and our advisor jumped to a different investment firm never to contact us again. That last one particularly peeved me since he ended our initial meeting with a line about building a lifelong relationship with us. And I was so proud of myself for calling “shenanigans” on his story at the time by pointing out that he was 25 years older than us, and would likely retire before our kids could drop out of college to blow their college savings backpacking across Europe, or possibly Australia.
Yesterday, we met with our new financial advisor. He had some work to do to smooth over the damage caused by their previous representative, though to be fair they weren’t too happy with the way the previous guy left either, taking clients, trade secrets, and some company-supplied monogrammed pens with him. Just to show our level of disdain, we walked into their fancy offices with all three children in two, and us dressed in our work uniforms, Ellie in hospital scrubs, and me in a spit-covered t-shirt and jean shorts.
I’m usually the one who takes care of the finances in our family, but I’m also the one who usually takes care of the children. Therefore, I made sure our dependents were content and relatively quiet while Ellie did most of the listening. This was okay since the meeting was less of an intense financial overview, and more of a “get acquainted” and “give us one good reason why we should give you one more cent instead of burying our savings in old formula cans in the backyard.”
I caught enough of the conversation to know that we weren’t being suckered into buying more life insurance. The kids were mostly well behaved. We set up the meeting during the twins’ nap time, and they obliged by napping during the entire meeting’s initial five minutes. At least they were satisfied sitting in their stroller and quietly staring at the shade for the rest of the meeting. Abbie was more of a handful, running around the office, grabbing things within her reach like those golf balls on the floor,* and finding shiny expensive objects to leave her fingerprints all over. I mostly kept her placated with a few silent toys, Fruit Rings, Goldfish, more Fruit Rings, and a little water. She threw one tantrum, for which I had to take her outside. She calmed right down as soon as she saw our car, and fortunately stayed calm once she realized we weren’t headed back home yet so I could go back inside.
The advisor did a good job of reassuring us. He pointed out a couple of mistakes from the initial visit like some incomplete forms and a stated goal of “aggressive income” when obviously we want “aggressive growth.” He was friendly. He never winced when Abbie screamed. Best of all, he’s only about 15 years older than us, giving him a chance of still practicing when the kids need money wired to them in a hostel in Dresden.
* He’s a financial advisor. Of course he plays golf.
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