NS January 25th, 2009

Last night, after we’d gotten the kids to bed and sat down to dinner, The Noble Husband and I got onto that age-old topic of quasi-philosophical conversation: what would you do if you won the lottery? Somehow, in our decade together, we’d never discussed what we would do with our imagined millions. As the more idealistic and (I like to think) altruistic one, I was completely confident that I would want to give more away than he would. I imagined he’d want to buy a big, modern house and all the latest gadgets, go traveling, put a shitload of cash into a trust fund for the kids, treat his parents and closest friends to a nice holiday and quit his job to enjoy himself. Instead, he said he’d give a third of it to charity (commendable), pay off the mortgage on our existing house but not move for awhile (unexpected), put £100,000 into a trust fund for each of the children so they would have enough to pay for higher education and get themselves on the property ladder but not be spoiled (sensible), buy the latest gadgets and take his family on holiday (predictable), take a few months off work but not quit (surprising), and give his closest friends £100,000 each. Hold on, WHAT? Did he just say what I think he said? Yep, £100,000, he confirmed. EACH. £100,000. Did I mention each?

Stir-fry stuck in my throat and my jaw hit the table. I was completely dumbstruck. When I asked him why he would give them so much he just shrugged and said “Why not?.” I couldn’t stop spluttering. Not because I thought it was outrageous or foolish but because I felt ashamed that I would’ve expected anything less than that from him. In my own estimates of what I would give friends, I had imagined a big group holiday and then maybe £5k gifts to a few very close friends, all the while dreaming of the millions I would give various charitable organizations. A small, selfish, vain part of me thought I was the only one who wanted to save the world and that this was noble. But I see now that his charity extends not only to those far away in African villages, cancer wards and domestic violence shelters, but those he sees and knows in his everyday life. People who have helped shape him over the years — those who have helped deepen the laugh lines around his mouth, know his secrets, attend his birthday parties and bounce his children on their knees. Friends who always bring wine to dinner and treat us to coffee when we examine our wallets and say we’ll just have tap water.

This man I married…he may not be capable of hanging up a wet towel properly and he’s a bugger to get out of bed in the mornings but he sure as hell is generous. I think I’ll keep him.

• Squish Squish , Til Death Do Us Part
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