What's a Nickel?

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"What's a nickel?", he asked, as they sat in the Starbucks parking lot.
"What do you mean?" she responded.
"I don't know what that is", he replied.

She stared intently at him for a moment.  Was he being serious?  He was.  He was being completely serious.  She held up a dime and asked "What's this?"

He gave her a sheepish shrug, and said "ten cents.... but I don't know what you call those." Was he being serious? He was. He was being completely serious.

My husband didn't know what a nickel was until 3 days ago.  He knew the value of the coin, just as he knew the value of the quarter, dime and penny.  You see, in the motherland of England, they don't have names for their coins, and he seemed to function well enough without this knowledge here in the U.S. of A. for the past 3 years.

This discussion came to fruition the other afternoon as I scanned my wallet for change for a desperately needed latte.  I asked him if he had a nickel, and while there seemed to be some sense of recognition in his eyes, he had to ask "What's a nickel?"

After I realized he honestly didn't know, we had a mini-lesson there in my van.  Should I lie?  No, no I shant.  I enjoyed it.  You know, that somewhat condescending thing us women like to do when we teach our men something so vital to existence.  We take those precious moments so serious.  I seized the opportunity, and the coins from my wallet.

Quarter?  He knew quarter.  Slight punch to my lesson and ego.  Penny he knew.  Penny/pence, tomato/ tomatoe.  But I reveled in teaching him that a dime was a dime, and a nickel was a nickel.  He seemed mildly satisfied with his newfound knowledge; I glowed.  I was pleased with how the lesson went. 


It is funny how, even after nearly 7 years together there are these seemingly random little cultural things he doesn't get.  I take joy in learning about him and his little Midlands cultural intricacies and sayings each day.  I take joy in teaching him about my own.  All-Camerican.




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