Chapter 9 - DAD’S OLD SPREADSHEET
Dad found the original spreadsheet five years after the rent threat.
He brought it to Sunday lunch.
“I should burn this.”
I looked.
The sheet that started everything.
Household Costs — Revised.
My name.
Proposed rent increase.
A note:
Childcare contribution may offset increase.
I stared.
“You actually wrote it.”
He looked ashamed.
“I forgot how bad it was.”
Martha took the paper.
“Oh my God.”
Mom covered her face.
“I told you not to put that part in writing.”
We all looked at her.
“What?”
She winced.
“That sounded worse.”
Much worse.
Then Dad said:
“I want to show you something.”
He turned the page.
On the back was a new spreadsheet.
I groaned.
“Of course.”
Title:
WHAT ABBY WAS ACTUALLY CONTRIBUTING.
He had reconstructed it.
Rent.
Utilities.
Insurance.
Phone.
Groceries.
Subscriptions.
Household tasks.
Then he assigned market rates to chores.
Lawn service.
Administrative help.
Pet care.
Errands.
Cleaning.
Not because family members should invoice one another for every favor.
But to make visible what had been invisible.
Estimated monthly value:
$2,046.
Dad looked at me.
“We threatened to raise your rent from $650 because you wouldn’t provide more.”
I nodded.
He swallowed.
“You were already giving us more than we understood.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Then Dad tore the spreadsheet in half.
I stopped him.
“What?”
“Give it to me.”
“Why?”
I took both pieces.
“Teacher material.”
He stared.
“What are you teaching third graders about rent exploitation?”
“Boundaries.”
He laughed.
I kept the paper.
Not from bitterness.
May you like
Because sometimes evidence of old thinking becomes proof of how far people moved.
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