I'm one of those people who believe that as long as I'm spending money, I should get something - and not just what I'm buying. I want miles. Vicki, my friend and co-author, works for one of those annoying credit card companies that sends you all those solicitations in the mail, and she has a name for people like me, although I can't remember what it is (it might be "sucker" because every one of those "free" miles actually costs me $1). Still, I like my reward miles, which is why every time the cashier at Target taunts me with the 15% I'd save if I opened a Target card I wave my American Airlines plastic in the air and politely respond, "Thanks, but I like the miles." And my love of miles has paid off - next month we're using three free tickets to go away (although, again, "free" might be stretching it, as each of those tickets actually cost 25,000 miles, and at a $1/mile that's not exactly a great deal).

But, while I'm a miles girl, my husband isn't a believer. Which is why every time he pulls out his plastic I don't see free trips flashing before my eyes - I see the Boston Red Sox. Six years ago he got himself a Boston Red Sox credit card, and when we lived in Chicago it was a novelty. He'd pull it out at a bar and the bartender would ask, "Do you work for the team?" He loved it. Now that we live in Boston, however, he's not exactly the only one with Red Sox in his wallet. Novelty gone. And what's he getting in return, what's his reward now? Red Sox points. Not that he's ever actually redeemed a Red Sox point, mind you. I doubt he even knows how to, which is why, when my son wanted a Sox baseball hat last summer it wasn't purchased with Red Sox points, but rather mommy's hard earned cash.

So when my husband pulled out the card Saturday night at dinner I once again saw the lost vacations, the full-fare airline tickets in our future, and said, "Ohhh, another 72 points toward that plastic Red Sox batting helmet." Unfazed he smiled at me and replied, "You'll be sorry one day when I die and someone from the Red Sox shows up at your door and tells you that your husband earned so many points you now own the team." "Maybe," I told him, taking out my American Airlines card. "But until I get to use the team jet, I'm still getting my miles."