As I got ready to leave, Daughter 2 brought out the big guns.
"Momma," she started like the future lawyer she's destined to be, "if you bring me along with you, I can be your assistant coupon queen."
"My assistant coupon queen?" I asked for clarification even though I knew for a fact that I could have said nothing, and she'd offered clarification anyway.
"Your assistant coupon queen would be the girl who would cut the coupons for you and find the ads for you and even remind you to take the coupons to the store."
She had me there. Those were the three main things that kept me from being a great couponer: clipping, matching and using. I was far from a coupon queen. I was more like a coupon jester. But still. I needed to go alone, so I offered her a couponing-queen job.
"I do want you to be my assistant. Here," I pushed a stack of magazines and inserts at her, "cut all the coupons out that you think we would use as a family. That way, we have a jump start on that after I get back." This offer didn't completely make her happy, but it did satisfy her. With her happily searching for the scissors (that no one uses yet they are never in their place), I walked out to the minivan and set off to class.
When my ninety-minutes was up, I returned home to find the scissors not in their spot and the papers in the trash. "Did you clip coupons, Queenie?" I called out to Daughter 2.
"I did. I clipped all the coupons that we would like. They're on the table."
I like the way my assistant queen thinks.
