Friday, November 15, 2013

                                                                DISS CHARGE

I am not going to panic just because it’s the 6th of the month, and I have spent my entire month’s Visa budget. The closing date is 20 days away. If we fast and don’t leave the driveway, I will make it, no problem. I say “I” because Mr. Wonderful has his own Visa and his own special closing date. We share the doughboy mattress topper, the slightly mildew towel set and the leftover broccoli crowns, but our Visas are sacred--no sharing allowed. When we tried to share one credit card years ago, the “who charged that?” conversation became quite animated. My feckless attempts to convince him that the Victoria Secret charges were his, failed miserably. “That was the outfit you bought me for our Valentine’s week-end. Don’t you remember?” “Yeah, right,” he said. “Valentine’s Day was six months ago.” Can’t blame a girl for trying.

This morning I figured out that now that we are being more frugal by eating meals at home, I have royally screwed myself. All meals out are paid for by Mr. Wonderful; meals in by yours truly. What was I thinking? Not only do I have to go to Groupon Therapy, but I have to pay the bill for food that only he eats. He keeps putting tuna salad on the list. Tuna salad has gone from $.79 a pound to $9.47. WTF. He inhales the stuff. No sooner do I mortgage my soul to buy him some of this disgusting sweet-pickle version but he’s finished it and put it back on the list. I know I have bought at least 14 quarts of the stuff this month. He has to have mercury in his adnoids by now.

What’s more, he has the gall to put $11.99 Tide on the grocery list. (Yes, he does the laundry, but that’s beside the point.) Other choice foods that he adds to the list are apple sauce, Cranberry juice and Kleenex. First of all, no grown man should be seen spooning apple sauce out of those tiny cups. It’s just weird.That’s like watching a knat dig his way out of a sand dune. Secondly, Cranberry juice is only good in Cosmos, and he doesn’t drink them. And Kleenex? I haven’t blown my nose since 1974, so why do I have to pay for his 17 boxes per month? There’s something wrong with this picture. I figure if we just go back to eating out four nights a week, I’ll have some cash left over to buy myself some Spanx. He said he’d take care of that, but that’s another story.

So, I have this system that works most of the time. I charge on the Visa until I meet my budget. Then I use my “living expenses” budget to get me through a grocery shopping and fill-up or two. When that runs out, I purposely call every friend I can think of and plan dinner out. This way, he is delighted with our great social calendar and doesn’t realize that I haven’t bought groceries for two weeks and that his Visa is suddenly maxed out. 

Ah, the incredible power of blond.