My confession: Mom, I lost the $1,000 coat you bought me. No, I'm not sorry.

My mom is rich. She's not so rich that I am, too — I'm not, not by a long shot. But she is, and when she's footing the bill, we do fun rich-people things, like jet off to the beach for the weekend. I know, money doesn't equal love, but it is one of the ways she shows it, which is probably why I like to get her to buy me things. More, usually, than I like the things themselves.

Which was the case with the very expensive coat I wanted a few years ago. I framed my request in the right way: I'm a professional, wouldn't it be nice if I wasn't wearing a fleece to work every day, she has beautiful clothes, and so wouldn't it be great if we both had stunning outerwear? She agreed, we spent the day shopping and I came home with a cashmere coat that promptly became the single most expensive thing in my apartment, appliances and furniture included.

As it turned out, wearing it wasn't that great. It was beautiful, it looked great on, it certainly did keep me warm. But while I'm a professional, I don't even dress up for work that much, and now here I was wearing this coat, which, while nothing short of exceptional when I was surrounded by other four-figure articles of clothing, in my actual cubicle life felt ridiculous. And then one night I was working late, took a cab home and ... left it in the cab. Never to be seen again.

That was lousy: I had to tell my mom — she wasn't mad, just disappointed — and I felt bad that I'd been irresponsible. But honestly? I didn't feel that bad. Now, I'm not saying it happened on purpose, but I was glad I didn't have to wear it anymore. Lucky thing, too, because I'm sure not getting another one any time soon.