Today at the grocery store (my favorite, fancy grocery store), I had a little meltdown. It was the third store Steve and I had browsed through on our outing, and in each store I was overcome with a desire to own stuff. I desperately wanted the cute cardigan at the first store and I desperately wanted the cloth napkins and the Christmas decorations at the second store and I was about to throw a fit in the grocery store because I was desperate to take home the pretty fruit tarts and the jars of fancy curds and the bags of designer chocolate. We can't afford those things just at the moment with our money promised to airplane tickets and insurance and sensible groceries (as opposed to the $20.00 hunks of cheese I lust after), but I wanted everything I saw. In large amounts. We were walking down the aisles while I pointed out products and grumbled, "See that puffin on that cereal box? That puffin has his own line of cereal and I have nothing." I cared deeply that if that puffin wanted to he could seriously indulge himself in some hardcore materialism and product consumption. Steve cared that the puffin character was based on a real puffin from Canada.
I did get to make a purchase. A sensible purchase. And Steve bought some wintergreen mints. As were standing in the checkout line, Steve was sniffing his mints and waxing poetic about the smell of wintergreen, confirming my theory that there's an 80-year-old man trapped in Steve's body. It explains why he loves mints and that gross Canadian candy and wearing his pants hiked up to his eyeballs.
"Why are your shorts pulled up so high?"
"That guy over there's wearing his pants this high."
"That guy's 112-years-old."
It's okay. He can wear his pants under his armpits if he wants to, because he does lots of good stuff too. Like offering to corn me a beef when I feel sad. Isn't that nice?
(But we can't afford a beef today.)
7 comments:
Had I been thinking I would have gotten you a FM gift card for Christmas for your lemon curd and horseradish mustard fix instead of something more . . . practical.
No, we liked the Sam's card! If I had fancy stuff from FM I wouldn't be able to fit it in the suitcases anyway. I should have put a little disclaimer on this post that we're not actually destitute. I just want to be fabulously wealthy and spend money indiscriminately sometimes.
ROFL....
Man I've missed you guys. It's been a rough summer with no Steve to laugh at. (jokes) See you in a few days maybe. Oh, maybe not - I won't be at church Sunday. Ok, maybe next week or somethink.
Oh, this is so familiar. The first 6 months of life in New York had me tearing my hear out every time I walked past a store. And that is, unfortunately, about every ten steps. It's like being a bit tight on money opens up the consumer-flood-gates, and suddenly you realize that without the power to consume like you're constantly told to, you're a disenfranchised citizen. Or something like that. Then one day, it will inexplicably disappear. I promise.
(p.s. I wrote a blog on my 6 months of consumerist misery. It's essentially defunct, more so than balance, but you might enjoy it. http://recipitation.com)
Being tight on cash builds character so I've been told by those who always had more cash than me. I hear your father-in-law is a soft touch though,just ask his daughter.
KWB
Chou--I've read some of recipitation and I do enjoy it. I can relate. There's something less about actually wanting to have things than to be able to have things that smarts.
KWB--I hear it builds character too. We're okay! And I start applying for jobs today.
Thank you, thank you for loving the 80 year-old man inside my brother!
We were having a house party one time so Steve did the shopping... he bought "all-sorts party mix". He pointed at the bag and told me is was completely party appropriate. Another time Steve had a party and made boiled dinner.
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