Saturday, May 31, 2008

The Little Luxuries

I am the fifth of seven children and although my dad is an educated professional, while I was growing up, money was a rare commodity. My mother was a tightwad extraordinaire and my dad, to this day, is a conservationist of such extremes, members of Green Peace would tell him to lighten up. So even though I live with my four kids at a more comfortable level than I did growing up, there are certain things that will always seem like indulgent luxuries to me no matter how fabulously rich I get, (unlikely as that may be).

Caution: List Ahead!

Wonder Bread: My mom subscribed to the "the whiter the bread, the sooner you're dead" philosophy of sandwich making and she bought the long, skinny store brand loaves by the half dozen which she would throw in the freezer. So our sandwiches would consist of misshapen, half frozen/half soggy slices of bread with a single leaf of lettuce and a single slice of Buddig meat so thin you could read your book through it. Now, I feel like a naughty child sneaking cookies whenever I buy Wonder Bread and eat it fresh, never frozen, with peanut butter and jelly spread all the way to the edges!

Full-Sized Candy Bars: I think I was in highschool before I ever ate a full-sized candy bar by myself. These were such rare treats when I was growing up, if anyone in the family ever got one, that person was expected to put it in the freezer, then when it was sufficiently hard, we would slice it and dole out the frozen shards all around. Even now, eating candy bars in an unfrozen state seems like an incredibly indulgent and selfish thing to do.

New Underwear: Not only am I the fifth child, but I'm also the fourth girl with a sister only 17 months older than me. Needless to say, my entire wardrobe consisted of hand-me-downs including personal wear. I remember when I was eleven and I finally earned some babysitting money, I jumped on my bike and rode to the nearest Ross Dress For Less and bought myself a package of brand new underwear. Some things are just not meant to be shared.

French Fries: Eating at McDonald's was a momentus event in my childhood reserved only for celebrating achievements just shy of winning a Pulizter. Even on road trips my mom would pack fried hot dogs and sliced omlets wrapped in aluminum foil so we wouldn't have to buy food along the way. And when, on these momentus occasions, we did go to McDonald's, all we ate were those flat burgers the size of coasters, no drinks, no fries. It baffles me that my children do not like fries. I think I'm spoiling them terribly just for offering them.

Buying things not on sale: My mom was a price comparing, sale shopping, coupon clipping expert. She knew which stores had which items for the cheapest, then she would wait for it to go on sale, then pull out her categorized accordion file box of saved coupons before making a purchase. At clothing stores it was even worse. It had to be on the clearance rack that was at least 50% off. Now, I can't buy things that are not on sale without looking over my shoulder and making sure my mom isn't looking (even though she lives a half an ocean away). I feel that if she were in a grave, she'd be rolling in it.

12 comments:

Heather said...

My favorite post so far. Hilarious. I loved every part of it.

Kristine said...

So the question really is... who would win in a fight between my mom and your mom? My mom can't double a recipe without my help. She can't remember conversations we had yesterday. And I'm not sure that she could tell you the current ages of her children, or possibly even herself. BUT, she can tell you, to the penny, what prices you can expect using which coupons at which stores on any given grocery item, as well as how long before you can expect things to go on sale.

It's a gift. Unfortunately, she's terrible at the Price is Right, because she knows nothing about the full retail prices.

Mama Mia said...

Loved reading this! I loved that you took your baby sitting money and bought underwear!

Cheryl said...

Wow! What a blast from the past! I could swear that you were my sister, except I'm pale white!! I do think that we were raised by the same mother, though!

I am the 5th of 10 children and my mom was always pinching pennies. My favorite (NOT) was how she would buy a gallon of milk and divide it half and fill both gallons up with powdered milk powder and water. UGGG!

This was an awesome post! Thanks for sharing!!

SUP3RH3R0 said...

So what happened to that Mom of yours. Well I guess she puts on a different personal to the outside world, because she sure doesn't penny pinch when we go out to eat. In fact she usually picks up the check. But I understand, I think all Moms from that generation can do that grocery thing. My Mom does it too. If I go grocery shopping with her and see something on sale, I have to first check with her. Many times she'll say, "Oh that is not a good sale price, we'll wait for it to really go on sale." But hey, I'm the same way when I go to the electronics store. ;)

Aimee said...

LOL! I know how you feel, Ray. Growing up, I figured we were below the poverty level with the way my parents treated their money. Imagine my surprise when applying for financial aid and realizing that dad made too much money for me to qualify (not that it took a whole lot, but still).

ray said...

Cheryl, that is hilarious about the powdered milk! I'll have to try it, milk is $5.00/gal here on sale. How many of your mom's habits did you inherit as you raised your seven?

Likewise, Aim, I grew up feeling poor, but my brothers were pretty spoiled. My parents made more money and had fewer kids to support once they came along. I don't think it's necessarily an advantage. We're better people for having been deprived, right?

Ambie said...

Serving powdered milk is considered child abuse in 35 states I'm just sure of it.

Cheryl said...

Boy, I sure thought so at the time!! I guess I still do. I have never subjected my kids to that torture!!

Ambie said...

absolutely, I only feed my kids condensed milk.

ray said...

I guess I'm a bad mom because I have powdered milk in my fridge as we speak (type). The only time we have real milk is when our home teacher brings it to us from their cow. Man, I'm one step away from eating wheat germ and having my babies in the bath tub!

Tim said...

I grew up not knowing that certain things were meant to be disposable. Like wooden chopsticks, Ziploc bags, and SOLO cups. We alway washed those. I remember going to a picnic and seeing everyone throwing their cups away. I think dad may have fished a couple of them out of the trash and took them home. You know this is hereditary. Grandpa Okawa used to cut his napkins in half. There was always dental floss hanging over the towel rack, remember that?