Re-inventing date night
Since Darling Husband works most weekends, our weekly date night has always been Monday. Yeah, Monday — probably the least likeable of all seven days. But we make the best of it.
Our favourite way to spend Monday evenings used to be going to a pub for a medley of bad-for-you goodies — nachos, potato skins, chicken wings, etc. Clearly we do not have sophisticated tastes …
We did this happily for years. But in the last few months, when we’ve been more conscious of getting healthy — and saving cash — we have only been once. We were spending $40ish dollars every time, and it was being spent on food that would eventually kill us — not exactly a win-win situation.
Except for the fact that it was delicious.
So for the past few months, we have been staying home on Monday evenings. Fellow blogger Bryn Alexandra and her husband have been doing the same.
We had just been making a regular dinner — chicken or whatever we had. It wasn’t a special meal, and it was kind of a depressing change from our usual dinner out.
Last night, it was almost summery-feeling, so we decided to barbeque. Darling Husband grilled burgers, I made roasted potatoes and a fancy salad, and we had chips and salsa to start. We put more effort into the meal than we normally would, and it turned out really well …
Much cheaper than dining out, definitely healthier than dining out, and we made it together. In order to keep Date Night feeling like a date, we need to go beyond re-heating something frozen. It needs to take effort.
The meal looked so pretty that I enthusiastically suggested we eat outside on the deck. But Hubby reminded me that it was still Canada in April.
Oh yeah.
She’s been using Brand X
When Darling Husband and I first moved in together, we were pretty poor.
I was still in school and he went through a period of unemployment, so things were tight. We lived in an apartment overlooking Wal-Mart, and took the bus everywhere. Going to the movies was too expensive, so for entertainment, we would sometimes occassionally regularly scowl at eagerly watch kids beating each other up by the cart corral.
In those early days — before I developed Aisle Angst — we food-shopped together. We had both come from brand-loving households where you ate Eggo Waffles — not generic toaster waffles. So we naturally found ourselves buying brand-name groceries. Except for one thing …
Store-brand juice from concentrate.
Is that even how you say it? Or is it concentrated O.J.? O.J. concentrate? Anyway, it tasted terrible, but we bought it because it was cheap. I still remember dumping the can of goop into our plastic pitcher, adding water, and stirring its murkiness. Blah.
Looking back, I have no idea why we “took a stand” with orange juice. Why we thought that saving a dollar or two on juice alone would make a big difference in our budget.
Eventually, we started making more money and graduated to Tropicana. I didn’t think much of it, until yesterday when I was in the grocery store.
I bought store-brand shampoo and conditioner.
And you know what? It was good.
I compared the prices between a couple of different brands, and decided it was just shampoo. Anything was going to work, so I might as well get the cheaper kind. And in the interest of tightening our belts, I think I’m going to be more flexible in the future, brand-wise.
I don’t think I will ever be able to buy only store-brand, no-name products. I hear about people who only buy store-brands, and save tons of money on groceries every year, but I just can’t go that far. I don’t want my cupboards to be an ugly yellow no-name blur.
I don’t mind buying store-brand shampoo, baggies, or canned corn. But I will probably always buy brand-name juice, cereal and toothpaste. And Diet Coke. And cheese. Don’t even get me started on store-brand moisurizers and cosmetics!
There are some things were you can choose to skimp, and there are some things where you want to buy the best.
And as long as I don’t skimp on my face cream, I’m content.
Veggie tales
ME: Yeah, Little Sis came over while I was doing my weekly vegetable chop. I do it every Sunday evening. I take out carrots, celery, broccoli and green beans, and chop everything up, and make individual baggies of raw veggies …
*SILENCE*
ME: … you know, so we can take them to work everyday? As a snack?
MOM: That is the most boring thing I have ever heard. (TO LITTLE SIS) You had to watch her do that?
LITTLE SIS: Yes! It was disturbing!
MOM: God.
LITTLE SIS: I’m not going to be like that when I’m 25, right?
MOM: No, definitely not.
ME: Um, ow!
What are little boys made of? Explosives?
I’m no scientist, but I have been inspired to write a thesis.
The topic? Why boys are far more likely to get hurt than girls.
Darling Husband had a little mishap at work over the weekend, so we paid a trip to the emergency room to get him checked out.
Since he was clearly not in much pain, we must have been placed onto some kind of “No rush-this-guy’s-fine” list … because we waited for five hours to see a doctor.
During our lovely five-hour stay in the waiting room, we watched lots of people come in. A little boy limping. A boy who hurt his ankle skateboarding. A little boy with a head injury. Another little boy with a head injury.
Yeah, that’s right — all boys! OK, in the name of fairness, there were two girls — both sick, not hurt — and a whole hoard of old people.
Was this just a fluke? Do girls get hurt just as often? I’m not sure, but if I was a betting woman, I’d place $500 on black … a black-and-blue-ankled boy, that is.
Three months from today! Yay!
Best Friend is getting married in exactly three months!
I can’t wait to see her in her dress!
I can’t wait to see me in my dress!
I can’t wait to see Best Friend’s man — and my own — in their handsome tuxes!
I can’t wait to see me in my dress!
I can’t wait to see Best Friend’s man — and my own — in their handsome tuxes!
P.S. I swear, I am looking forward to more than just the clothes … although the clothes are obviously a very exciting part!
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