We’re standing in line and the rain is falling cold just outside the doors and beads of cold water stand up from the carts and she looks tired.
I watch the grapes close because they’re on sale and I want to make sure I get them at 50 cents a pound because otherwise apples are cheaper.
And I quibble at the price of my eggs because they ring up at 82 cents for the half dozen but they’re marked at 74 cents and that made them cheaper per egg than buying a straight dozen.
And as she rings them up I laugh, because have I really just argued over 12 cents total? And she laughs too because some days, every penny counts.
Even when it means buying two half-dozens and arguing over the price?
I think I’ve reached a new low in the world of frugality.
And I think I probably have a mention on her books of strange people in the Wal-Mart checkout line.