Husband looked up from his iPad and snapped the case shut. "I have to make a phone call," he said. I looked at my watch. It was 4 pm on a Saturday afternoon. "For work?" I asked and frowned.

"No, I am calling Englebert." Englebert is the seven year old son of our friends in Massachusetts. "When we last visited, he told me that he was sad because no one ever calls him. Clara told me that they would be around today, so I am going to call him."

He lifted himself from the purple leather armchair and strode across the living room to the phone. He dialed. "Hello, Clara. I'm calling for Englebert."

I sat on the purple couch smiling while Husband spoke to Englebert.

"Oh, you are getting three Care Bears from two DVDs," he said. "How exciting... and a babysitter is coming?... Yes, Suzanne says hi." I waved at the phone. They spoke for a few more minutes. "Sure I'll talk to Sam." Sam is Englebert's four year old brother. "Oh you went to gymnastics? What's your favorite thing in gymnastics?... Somersaults! Yes, those are fun... Bye bye."

The conversation must have been seven or eight minutes, but I bet it made the kids' day to have a grown up call them to talk to them on the phone. And that is why I am so lucky to have Husband. What other financier would think to do something like that?

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