I
was having a conversation with my mom earlier today, when the topic of
moving my stuff for my curio cabinet came up. It was her opinion that
maybe I shouldn’t have that stuff in my apartment in case it gets
robbed. Well, what’s the point of having this stuff if you never use
it?
Besides, I highly doubt that any thieves in the area are going to
care that I have Hoya wine glasses and the peony pattern I selected has
since been discontinued, so it might be worth something to a desperate
bride who dropped one in the sink. They’re going to care more about
anything that a pawn shop will buy for cash. As we were talking, she
says “Besides, you probably don’t have insurance.”. Um... Hold up.
You’re saying this to your paranoid daughter, who used to work for an
insurance agent, and who knows you get a discount with multiple policies
AND renter’s insurance is stupid cheap? Hello. Had it a week before I
moved! Yeesh. I mean, come on! Isn’t that like the holy Jewish
Retail Trinity; knowing a guy, having done it for a living, AND getting a
discount? I might love me some bacon, but I learned that much in
Hebrew school.
In
the end, you’ll be happy to know that my mom is allowing me, her 34
year old daughter, to have her “nice stuff stuff” in her apartment since
now it’s replaceable. *shakes head*
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