I am frugal. No, let me rephrase. I am cheap. I am the type of person who cringes when DH takes more than 1 paper towel to dry his hands. I sit there and watch him while he grabs at the roll and just keeps pulling on it while 3, 4 and 5 sheets go by. He could be talking to me, but I don’t hear him because I am dying inside. Staring at the diminishing roll. Biting my nails. Wondering when he’s going to stop. I could say it’s because I’m worried about the environment. But that would be a lie. It’s because with every sheet, I see money being thrown out the window.
When I reach the end of a shampoo or lotion bottle, I will set it upside down and use every loving drop of it. I will stick my finger in there and swipe at whatever is left. Bang the bottle on the countertop to get every last drip to come out. And I mean EVERY.LAST.DRIP. My favorite game is to guess how many more uses I can get out of a container before I have to open a new one.
We know a woman who has been a friend of the family for forever. She is an older version of me in more ways than one. She cuts her shampoo bottles in half so that she can use every bit. Everyone thinks it’s funny. Me? I think it’s the best idea since, like…ever. I got four more shampoos out of my last bottle because of her. I’ll have to thank her next time I see her.
I refuse to buy anything that isn’t on sale. Even though the sign says “4 for a dollar”, I will buy one because that’s all I need at the moment. I would prefer to buy store brand, but DH seems to know the difference so I can’t. It kills me.
Yet, somehow I manage to spend every penny I have in my wallet. I could start the week with $100 and in two days, it’s gone. Don’t ask me. I guess I am what you would call an oxymoron. Oh well. So, who wants to go out for lunch? You buying?
The kid is an irish dancer. For anyone who has a child who partakes in the irish dance world (or any major sport for that matter) you understand that it will cost DH and me enough to send her to Harvard 3 times over by the time she is done (ok, I’m exaggerating just a little, but still…).
I was day dreaming today and thinking of all the things I could do if she decided to just join the debate club at school instead. I felt the need to share to put it all into perspective:
1 year of tuition x 14 years = one in-ground pool
3 solo dresses = a 2-bedroom apartment in NYC’s Upper West Side for a month
3 team dresses = LASIK surgery for my left eye
Wigs & Crowns = Tiffany necklace
Soft shoes, hard shoes and poodle socks = 27 inch iMac
Private lessons (really stupid since we pay an arm and a leg for tuition) = a full body massage
7 years going to Regionals = A 2.5 week trip for two to Hawaii
Going to Worlds once (secretly hoping it stays that way) = LASIK surgery for my right eye
14 years of local competitions = One master bathroom renovation
Dress alterations = full body massage PLUS facial & manicure
1 happy kid = Priceless or I have to have my head examined, whichever way you want to look at it
When I signed her up, I had no idea what was coming. Not one person warned me that it would turn into a 4 class a week, competition led sport. Not ONE!
To add insult to injury the kid loves it. She dances around the house all day, all night. Down the hallway, in the shower, during dinner. If you ever run into us at the mall, you probably will catch a performance. Rally one, Rally two. AAAAHHHHH!!!!!!
So, instead of a trip around the world TWICE, I get to sit at competitions all day long. Who can relate in one form or another? Let’s see, 3 years, 4 months and 21 days until our money is ours again. Oh wait. I forgot about college. Never mind.