What’s your life worth?

GRIN # 213

It’s priceless, right? I agree.

But, well. The life insurance guy wants a number.

Our 10-year term life insurance is getting ready to run out so Jerry and I are shopping for new policies. The fact that this event coincided with my horrible buffalo dong dinner the other night has raised eyebrows, but I swear I’m not planning anything. At least not until we get the policies straight.

Seriously, I’m kidding. Please don’t call the police. I am not plotting anything; I can’t even manage to get all my laundry done.

The other night Jerry printed out a Prudential form called “Life Insurance Quick Estimator” and handed it to me.

It’s the mammoth word problem from Hell. And there is nothing quick about it.

First you have to figure out 60 to 80 percent of your total incomes, then estimate your Social Security earnings. Next, subtract line 2 from line 1, and multiply line 3 by one of the numbers in line four. Following that is the cheerful task of figuring out your funeral costs and your kids’ college expenses and, if you’re realistic, your spouse’s dating expenses (that bastard!). Everything gets totaled up, but then you have to subtract line 12 from line 8 and don’t forget that inflation is 3 percent and the rate of return on most investments is assumed to be 6 percent.

Got that?

Yeah, me neither. I’m the one that got asked not to help with first grade math, remember? I think this is Jerry’s idea of a sick joke.

So how much do I need?

Let’s just say A friggin’ LOT and leave it at that.

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