Travel & Insight
I grew up poor; poor like standing in line at the Food Bank poor. We didn’t get whipped cream in a can when I was growing up.
I moved out when I was 18, and started my new life with a roommate. We had minimal house supplies, but were adding to it. One day my roommate made chocolate pudding, but wanted whipped cream to go with it. I went with her to the store, and she headed to the milk section. But she picked up the canned whipped cream, not the kind you whip yourself!
“No!” I said, “You can’t buy that!”
She looked at me shocked. “Why not?”
“Because it’s too expensive. We have to get the cheaper one,” I said forcefully.
She stared at me for a moment, and then she said, “Lani, we don’t have a hand mixer. Unless you want to beat it by hand, I’m getting the canned one.”
I stood there in shock. The logicalness of the situation had hit me like a ton of bricks.
For the first time in my life we were going to spend the extra dollar to get what we really needed, and not worry about it.
Yeah, in the long run it’s more economical to buy the hand mixer and I found out I like the taste of the liquid whipped cream better, but for that immediate moment the answer was at hand – it just cost a dollar more. And it was OK.