“From Savings to Snafus: 69 Cost-Cutting Decisions That Went Horribly Wrong!”
Anyhow, I can’t even recall all the contents of that damn basement fridge that I forced my mother to throw away. Jars and jars of jam and Miracle Whip she bought on clearance that were years past their date. Jars of old tea she didn’t want to throw away so were “saved” for later–and forgotten. The worst part I will never forget was jar after jar after jar of pickle or jalapeno juice. That’s right–old a*s brine. After my parents would finish either a jar of pickles or jalapenos, they would save the brine in jars. I asked my mother again and again why they would do this, and she either pretended not to hear me or would just tell me to shut up.
I have lots more stories, but this is the first one that popped into my head that sums up what absurd lengths my parents would go to save things and be cheap.
Oh, okay, one more one. My parents were too cheap to buy either good knives or good cutting boards to cook with. It was so hard to cook with dull knives on old, uneven wooden chopping blocks. So I bought them a nice knife sharpener and a nice chef knife after college. A few months later I noticed how worn out the sharpener was, and yet the nice chef knife had been blunted down. I figured out what was going on watching my father cook later on that day, watching him use the nice chef knife to chop through a whole chicken (bones and all) directly on a *marble* slab that I thought they were using as a place to put hot pans/pots.
I told my mother, and she said that my father did that all the time with all the knives, and then she would sharpen the knives in an idiotic, absurd cycle. I was so angry with my father I took the knife back, and to my surprise he didn’t care because he said it got dull too quickly as opposed to the ancient, clunky meat cleaver they had. That god damn cleaver. I have clear memories of them using it when I was a child all the way up until I was out of university. The handle on it actually snapped clean off while I was in high school, but rather than buy a new one, they got a friend that did some metal work to weld it back together.
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