Monday, July 20, 2009

If a girl places a chocolate cake in her cart, don't judge, okay?

Oh yeah, there's the good stuff.
Pictured: Wegman's "Ultimate Chocolate Cake"

It's a good thing I don't live with a worrier. Case in point: last night. laying in bed, I heard buzzing sounds. "Do you hear that?" I asked Matt. "Oh yeah, I saw a hornet in here earlier." Lovely.

And I won't get into the specifics, but I've been feeling the effects of the recession personally at my job for the past year. A lot of additional cutbacks were just initiated, leaving us bewildered, worried, and a bit poorer, and wondering how safe our jobs are (not very). Last week when I learned of all of this I announced our American dream was all over, we'd lose the house, and won't be able to care for our daughter (who, yes, is our each their own, eh?). I was hyperbolic, and I was taking no prisoners.

"And Matt, I know you think you're getting a computer for your birthday, but, well, in light of recent economic developments, you're getting an egg toaster, okay?" (Don't get me started on his silly egg toaster contraption.) Matt didn't miss a beat and said he wanted some Xbox games if I was going to rob him of his right to a speedy computer. Only if they're used, I said. Fine, he said. Deal; now go clear the dishes, will you?

While Matt was loading the plates and forks in the dishwasher and doing some financial calculations in his head, all the while saying we'd be fine and not to worry about it, I was already thinking about dinners comprised of tuna and mac and cheese, and oh, the horror, cutting back on my favorite designer boutique. And by "favorite designer boutique", I mean Target. Obviously. I looked at Penny and wondered if she could be a show dog, or a dog model for extra cash, and by golly, I think the old girl has it in her, if it wasn't for her coffee-brown teeth. "Roll over!" I demanded. She looked at me, tilting her head. "Come on, roll over!" This time she looked at my plate, with it's stray lettuce and dressing and a noodle or two. "Eat it now, Penny, before it's all gone," I said as I placed the leftovers on the tile.

"Oh no, here we go," said Matt. "Look we're fine, Kathryn. Okay?" I responded that we shouldn't have bought our two new rocking chairs, which were sitting on the porch, as if two chairs would save us from financial ruin. Then as I was rummaging in the refrigerator, I saw that Matt's lunch meat cost eight dollars. "Matthew, this is insane, your turkey breast is eight dollars!" And you know what the boy said? He said it's ALWAYS eight dollars. Aghast, I closed the frig door and sat down. "What else haven't you been telling me?"

"You need to calm down," he said. My uber-frugality was short-lived as this weekend at the market I indulged in a $4.50 fresh loaf of rosemary bread, $7 of blue cheese, and an "ultimate" chocolate cake from the bakery - a girl has needs, okay?! Matt, eyeing the cake, said, "Are you sure you want to..." and that's when I gave me a cold, hard stare and, "What, Matt, are you judging me?" In all fairness, just the night before I insisted 1) I need to get in shape and return to the gym after my gazillion month hiatus, and 2) we are poor. However, in my defense, I DID return to the gym that morning (and, oh, 40 minutes on an elliptical machine watching SOAPNet burns off an entire chocolate cake, right?), and Matt DID insist we were "okay" financially. I then added, for good measure, that this was a "hard time for me" and that "it's the little things like cake that brighten my day." He said okay, and I placed the cake in the cart. Sucker.

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