Talk money to me, baby

Mike and I attended our first Dave Ramsey "Financial Peace University" class last night. I read Total Money Makeover two or three years ago, but never got Mike to read it and never really made an attempt to go through the steps Dave outlines for 86-ing debt and building wealth. Every six months or so, I would log on to DaveRamsey.com, look at the list of classes near us, then move on to Facebook or some other site not nearly so depressing.

But a few weeks ago, I found that a class was being held at a Catholic church near us and I decided now was the time. I didn't really give Mike a choice to agree or disagree, though for the record, he didn't put up a fight.

We stopped on the way the class to grab some dinner, which of course made me feel guilty thinking about WWDD -- what would Dave do? When we arrived at the class, I was surprised at the number of older couples in attendance. At age 39 and 40, Mike and I were probably right in the middle of the age range. 

I saw that a DVD was set up and I worried that we were in for a long and boring two hours. Turns out that Dave is a pretty funny guy. (The professional writer in me wonders if he writes his own stuff.) Mike was laughing and seemed to be enjoying himself. We looked at each other with a been-there-done-that look when Dave said something about the transmission going out being an emergency. We had to introduce ourselves and give a brief statement about why we were there. Well, duh...

Anyway, as I was sitting there next to my husband who was clearly engaged in the subject, watching a DVD about finances of all horribly boring subjects, I felt a strange sensation. I was getting a little turned on! And though I do sometimes have a thing for bald men -- Patrick Stewart (of Star Trek: The Next Generation),  Sean Connery, Cuba Gooding, Jr. in "Jerry Maguire," Dave Ramsey's chrome dome doesn't really do it for me.

What had me going was the realization that Mike and I were on the same page, with the same goals, and the same desire to get a handle on a situation that was created over time by a bad economy, a layoff, destructive spending habits and a lack of vision. But here we were, ready to work together to achieve what will ultimately give us peace of mind and security. There was definitely something sexy about that.

After class, as we got into the car, I told him that the idea of paying off debt, building our savings, investing more and working on it together had me feeling a bit frisky.

"Really?," he said. "I just feel gassy," which he then demonstrated, as if to underscore his point.

Talk about a buzz kill. Maybe next week, I'll head to class with our budget and a bottle of Tums.