All Steve needed was a replacement part for the travel trailer. It cost less than $100. We would stop at the RV shop, he'd pick up the part he needed and we'd be heading home.
Simple enough, right?
Pffft. Not when he parks next to the prettiest darn 30-footer With An Outdoor Kitchen I've ever seen.
"This one's on special," the salesman says. "Just worked up the cost for someone."
I took a sip of my gas station coffee.
And that's when it all unraveled.
Fortunately we came to our senses pretty quickly.
Well, after about 30 minutes of checking out other trailers and talking about options and even hearing a payment schedule on the Beauty With An Outdoor Kitchen.
Payments. We have enough of those already, thankyouverymuch. We've already taken a couple of steps backwards in our journey to debt freedom. It seems like as soon as one payment disappears, it's not long before another monthly obligation pops up to take its place. It's time to get things back in focus and make good use of the momentum we've gathered this spring.
Sure, the extra space would have been nice when the kids and I go to visit Steve during summer vacation, but who really needs an extra fridge and sink and counter space on the outside of the trailer anyway? That's a luxury we just can't afford right now.
We are very fortunate to have what we have.
And I'm going to keep telling myself that this summer when, for the zillionth time, I am sweeping away the trail of sand from the door of the trailer to the refrigerator.
We do not need an outdoor kitchen ... We do not need an outdoor kitchen ...