I wanted a new bike, so I helped things along by giving my old bike to my son. My wife was a little miffed because I had given him an expensive bike. But like Gob Bluth with his suit, every time she mentioned the cost of the bike, it went up another fifty dollars. "I'm not sure why you gave him a $400 bike," became, "You should just take back your $450 bike," became, "He's just a kid; he doesn't need a $500 bike." Finally, when I was on a bike website looking at a $750 bike, my wife said, "That's what your old one cost."
Saturday when I was cleaning out a filing cabinet, I found the original receipt for my old bike: $330.
In my wife's defense, we were so poor that a $330 bike was an ENORMOUS purchase for us that required calling in early a bunch of Christmas and birthday money from our extended family.