Y'all be rich

Ian and I each got insulin pumps last year. We've talked about the $10,000 in pet bills. Then I paid $15,000 for the new HVAC downstairs. I got a $1300 standing desk to fix my body. And then I needed to replace my iMac at home for $4000. My budget is groaning under the strain of necessary purchases.

I looked for places I could update my spending to help me recover from all that. I paused my Roth IRA contribution, increased a payoff to suit me better, and looked at my life insurance.

I pay a lot for life insurance. Rich and I got a policy for me in October of 2014 for a million dollars. It was clear Rich was uninsurable and not going to live forever. If he died of cancer and I got hit by a bus the next week, it was going to take a lot of money to help Kim and Jack upend their lives to raise a five-year-old in another state.

But it's not 2014 anymore (man is it ever not 2014). Rich is gone. Shrop is here. Ian is nearly 12.

I told Shrop that I was paying a shit load of money every month for term life insurance just so he and Ian could go to Europe when I die. And that felt like bullshit. I want to go to Europe.

So we looked at our finances. And I called my financial advisor Jake. We decided not to 86 the term life insurance entirely but reduce it dramatically to $250,000. So instead of $302.88 a month, I'm going to pay $92.88 a month. And when I die, Shrop and Ian can get a toy hauler for their track cars. They have to airbrush my name on the side of it, though. I'm writing this down now so you all can hold them to it. "Genie's Magic Lamp" or something would be appropriate.

Sample toy hauler for Shrop and Ian upon my untimely demise

I had a lovely chat with David at USAA about my policy. His dad died of skin cancer when he was 12 years old. We talked about the importance of step-dads. We marveled about how we're all living and shit.

David informed me that their policies have changed recently and might get a better rate if I reapply. I reminded him that I'm a Type 1 diabetic. He told me that the research shows that the longer you have Type 1 diabetes, the less likely it will be the thing that kills you. That was encouraging, both to my sense of well-being and my wallet. If my application is approved, my monthly payment goes down to $81.04. I can pay for a sushi dinner each month to ensure that Shrop and Ian can throw money at problems if I leave this mortal coil unexpectedly.

My dad's mom had a small life insurance policy, just enough to bury her. She was a farm wife and had no real reportable income. When she was reaching the end of her life, she told my dad, "When I die, y'all be rich!" She didn't know the amount of her policy but just knew it existed and presumed her death could solve all the family's money problems. No one told her any differently.

My new policy doesn't kick in until October 17. So if I die in the next 11 days, y'all be rich.

Sample tombstone of “I was hoping for a pyramid”