Butterbean economics: how to come out behind

Okay, something you need to know about the Butterbean family. We could give the Griswolds the biggest run for their money, yes money.

Not that we decorate for Christmas or anything. We wouldn’t even drag the family pet behind the car. But I’ll give you a couple of examples here.

So we went to Macey’s on a Saturday night at 11 o’clock to buy groceries for breakfast the next morning. We had to hurry since Macey’s is closed on Sundays.

Breakfast the next morning was for 27 people. So we took six adults and a Grocery Getter along to accomplish the task. Well actually we couldn’t get anyone to stay home from what promised to be the social event of the season—grocery shopping at Macey’s.

They bring me along, not because they value my judgment when selecting sausages, but because I have a generous heart and a debit card with actual money backing it up.

On our way down the first aisle, my daughter brings up the question of the day. “Okay, who is going to pay for this meal, cause I don’t think I can afford this much food.” What she means is, “Shall I buy the gourmet bacon because Mom is paying for it, or shall I buy the ‘pork parts’ because I am paying for it?” It’s a grown-up version of trying to sneak goodies into the cart without Mom seeing you.

All six of the socialites promptly promise to chip in their share. We crisscrossed the unfamiliar store, Keystone Cops style, while trying to locate cheese, eggs, milk, orange juice, asparagus and Peanut M&M’s with six shoppers, three cell phones and only one of us who knows what we need but has no list and can’t remember everything either.

So at the checkout lane, I surrender my debit card to the daughter “in charge” and the conscientious daughter-in-law gives me $40 for her share of the groceries.

In the time it took my daughter to swipe my card and key in my password which is conveniently one of the only things she has ever memorized, she forgot that it was my card and began to key in “cash back” so she could pay me for her share of the groceries.

She remembered just in time that it was my card she was cashing out on. And I almost fell for it. Of course, I didn’t have too much time to think that one through.

This next story involves a transaction that must have taken a little more time. When our second son got ready to move on to college, he had gotten good grades, and had a plan, so we bought him a used truck to take to college so that he could get to class, etc.

So he drove the truck for the time it took for him to move on in the world and get ready to buy a new vehicle. I think his new wife wanted to drive something other than a ten-year old short-bed Chevy with a lift-kit and no credible suspension. It was beginning to suffer from multiple worn and broken parts. I think it barely ran, to tell the truth.

So Mr. B. who is a sucker for a Chevy truck no matter how old it is was first in line to buy his own truck back from his son who paid nothing for it in the first place. Isn’t that sort of like paying for it twice and not getting to drive it once?

What could Mr. B. expect from a son from his own loins? He taught him all he knows about getting the most for his money—what his grandson calls the fine art of cheap-skatery. What it amounts to is this: Mr. B. and men in general usually try to sell something for a price that has no correlation whatsoever with what they would pay for it.