STRANGER THAN FICTION: CHECKING OUT OF THE BANKING WORLD

There comes a time when two heads aren't better than one.

Like other members of the mathematically challenged, The Other Half and I can't balance our checkbook.

A decade ago, when I was enrolled in high school business classes and made a whopping $75 a week at my part-time job, it was easy to balance my checkbook. The only reason the account existed was to hold money from the evening of payday until the next time the Gap was open.

Later, when I made enough money to go to the Gap AND Wal-Mart, checkbook balancing went by the wayside. It stopped being an exact science and became more of an interpretation thing. If the bank's interpretation of my account was that no checks should bounce, that was fine by me.

Being a liberal, '90s kind of girl whose fiance had a few financial obligations, I decided we should have separate checking accounts after marriage. He would pay his bills, I would pay mine and we'd join on utilities, rent, etc.

If we couldn't make the bills, we'd get divorced and find mates who made more money. That would mean dating people outside the newspaper business.

A message to other newlywed women: Abandon liberal, '90s ideas about financing. Have the man bring home his check and hand it to you. Never let him see it again. Everyone will be happier that way, especially you.

The trouble is when both parties have access to the checkbook, which brings me to today's talk-show topic:

"WOMEN WHO KILL MEN WHO DON'T WRITE CHECKS IN THE DAMN REGISTER."

In our family, I keep the checkbook and he takes checks out of it, so we routinely bounce two or three checks a pay period. This results in many serious discussions about our financial incompetence.

ME: Sweetie, we got another notice from the bank ...

MR. HALF: Don't tell me. We bounced another check.

ME: Yes.

MR. HALF: Please don't beat me again.

ME: Go outside and pick out a switch.

Then we go back and forth for half an hour about who should be handling the checkbook. Somehow, it never gets turned over. As stupid as I am about money, I suspect The Other Half may be even worse.

We've consulted experts about this. One man, married for many years, suggested we don't view the bounced checks as bad things.

"Consider them high-interest loans," he said.

Another friend, this one in the banking industry, said we could set up another account while we cleared up the problems in the first account. For us, this would be an opportunity to screw up not one, but two accounts AT THE SAME TIME.

On several occasions we've opted for our own cure -- neither of us writing any checks for a month and operating out of the ATM.

The idea of The Other Half and me giving up checks is like the idea of junkies giving up crack. It's tough to go cold-turkey, and it's not something you can do on your own.

Fortunately, we're the kind of people who help each other through the bad times. If I'm tempted to write a check, I just call Mr. Half, who doubles as my sponsor, and get some words of encouragement.

"PUT THE CHECKBOOK DOWN," he says. "NOW BACK AWAY FROM IT SLOWLY."

We're in one of our no-check phases right now, so I need to wrap this up.

I've got the shakes.

~Heidi Nieland is a member of the Southeast Missourian news staff.