…show him exactly how ridiculous his $100 Christmas budget was, but in the most subdued, festive manner imaginable.
It all began when I came over the message he left before heading out on his business trip: “Make it work.” The recklessness! Not even stockings for the children, let alone decorations, presents, or a decent Christmas feast, $100 would cover Choosing to impart to him a lesson he would not forget made me feel a mixture of annoyance and resolve.
I grabbed that $100 and worked with it. Exactly.
I visited the $1 store first. The least expensive Christmas tree they had was a three-foot plastic scraggly that resembled something Santa’s sleigh had run over. I chose a sad strand of tinsel and a single pack of mismatched ornaments for decorations.
Then I bought the kids some “gifts” with some of the money. For our oldest, I got a rubber chicken; for the middle child, a pack of socks; and a squeaky dog toy for the baby—the most hilariously inappropriate objects I could find.
Regarding Thanksgiving supper, Oh, I let myself go completely. I picked a loaf of plain white bread, a can of baked beans, and some single-serve microwaveable mac and cheese cups.
By the time my husband arrived home, the house was a sight to behold. Leaning dangerously in the corner, the “tree” had few decorations that would hold to its limbs. The air smelled microwaved mac and cheese as the children stared at their “presents,” perplexed.
He came in, looked about, and his jaw fell.
“What… what is all this? ” hesitated.
“Christmas is here!” I yelled enthusiastically to highlight the arrangement and waved my arms. “I worked it out exactly as you advised!”
His face flushed as he turned from the tree to the gifts for the children to the depressing dinner excuse. “This… this isn’t Christmas!” he muttered.
“Oh, I agree,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “But this is what $100 gets us. Isn’t it wonderful?”
He ran his hands through his hair, clearly realizing how ridiculous his budget had been. “Ok, yeah, I understand. This was a horrible idea.
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “So, are we going to fix this, or should I start rationing the beans?”
That evening, we sat down and had a long talk. He said he hadn’t understood how much things cost and promised to take a more active role in budgeting for the holidays.
By the next day, we had a legitimate tree, real presents for the kids, and the makings of a traditional Christmas supper.
In the end, not only did we rescue Christmas, but my husband also learned an essential lesson: being thrifty is one thing, but attempting to make magic happen on $100 is a prescription for catastrophe. And a very grumpy wife.