I love my father as much as you’re supposed to, but thank god that trip is over. He came up to visit us for the past four days, and while it was a fairly pleasant time, I am so glad he’s gone.
He did not grow up in the Depression or go through Hard Times. Nevertheless, starting about six years ago he became obsessed with ‘saving money’. Since then all he can talk about is money - how much this or that costs, how that is too expensive, what a great deal he got on this, etc.
I like a bargain as much as the next guy. But dad doesn’t understand the concept of ‘bargain’. When you get something that’s worth $20 for $10, that’s a bargain. When you get something worth $10 for $10, that’s not. And when you get something worth $5 for $10, that’s certainly not.
his two favorite stores in the world are Big Lots and Radio Shack. Are they cheap? Yes. Is there a reason they’re cheap? Yes. He is constantly buying electronics from Radio Shack and they are constantly not lasting very long, and yet he continues to go there because they’re inexpensive. He bought batteries for a portable CD player at Big Lots. They were cheaper, but they died almost immediately. Nevertheless, when it came time to replace them, he bought more from them because they were still “cheaper”, even though in the long run he had to pay more by buying more of them.
For the past four days he’s had to read aloud the price of gas every time he sees it. He live in Louisiana, a gas-producing state, so it’s naturally cheaper there than here in the midwest. So every single gas station is a chance to talk about how much gas costs.
We call him the human pricing gun. Everything he sees he puts a tag on. This past Christmas he regaled us of stories of what great bargains he got on the gifts he gave us. My sister’s husband bought a new computer recently, and they told my dad it was a loaner from work so he wouldn’t get mad that they’d spent the money on it.
My wife finally had enough when he declared that he wasn’t willing to spend $2 on a loaf of bread because he remembered when it was ten cents a loaf. She remarked, “I think I’m worth spending two bucks on every now and then.”
But now he has returned to the land of cheap gas. For the rest of the week I don’t want anyone telling me how much anything costs.
Of course, the cards might provide enough room if we’re talking about something like a sympathy card (which is why I didn’t get those from the mall today). Most times, however, they don’t. (or I feel like they don’t… which is usually the same thing!)