The Frugality Wars

My mother had a plan. After my father died. She looked at her three young boys and knew what had to be done. This was before my stepfather entered the picture. The house was perfect for the four of us. But at some point there would be tuition, room and board, and books and supplies. Her dreams were small. Use the life insurance money as necessary. Wait until she was the only one left in the house. Then sell it. She imagined she would rent a small apartment somewhere close. There was little thought of her own wants or needs. Her self-sacrifice was evident to her little boys. And in this way we were raised on frugality. Although we were never wanting, we learned to forego extravagance. From time to time this created friction among the various members of our family and lead to the frugality wars.

It was mostly unnecessary. My mother’s business became a raging success. When my stepfather entered the picture, our financial lives became even more stable. We had enough to move to a well-to-do neighborhood. My childhood memories are littered with great vacations and few worries about money. We had enough.

But the frugality mindset became deeply ingrained in my mind. Every once in a while it would peak its head forward with a poignance that still bubbles into consciousness from time to time.

The frugality wars played out in various ways throughout childhood. But time and again, there was a moment that will forever remain the beachhead of this lifelong skirmish.

The battle of Le Francais.

The Battle of Le Francais

A legend growing up in Chicago, Le Francais was the height of extravagance when it came to suburban restaurants. The critics raved, the snooty city folk made the awkward reverse journey to the suburbs to sample the tasty menu. It was the height of elegance and luxury.

My stepsister, unwittingly, fired the first volley in this memorable childhood conflict when she requested this location for here high school graduation dinner. Her dad, the doting father, agreed to her request without a second thought.

My mother, however, with the frugality wars freshly in her mind, was quick to return fire.

The idea of dropping $500 on a family dinner was too much to swallow. Even with our family net worth growing, her early fears about financial stability after my father’s death were deeply ingrained into her psyche. She couldn’t imagine being so frivolous.

There were multiple angles to my mother’s discomfort. Not only was it painful to spend so much at one time, I think she worried about the message that she was sending us kids. She wanted to assure that we grew up with the right values and maturity surrounding money.

I can still remember the tension pulsing throughout our household for weeks before the fated day. Up until the night before, it wasn’t even clear whether my mother would agree to attend the celebration.

A Truce

The day arrived without much fanfare. Eventually my mother and stepfather reached some sort of truce. We all trooped to Wheeling that evening and had a fantastic dinner. I’ll never forget the sumptuous Tournedos of Beef. The waiter, sensing that I was a tad uncomfortable in such lavish settings, made a showing of placing my meal in front of me. When he removed the silver dome, instead of a delicately cooked morsel of steak, there was a neatly wrapped McDonald’s hamburger.

The prop lead to a gaggle of laughter.

I don’t remember much else about the evening. We all enjoyed our meals. Was it worth $500? Probably not. But as the years pass, I can still feel the tension of the frugality wars. I can remember my mother’s angst.

Her emotional construct of financial wellbeing was clouded by her deep fears of having enough after my father’s death.

We All Won

I prefer to interpret these events in a positive light. We all benefited from the frugality wars.

As an adult, I try to balance budgetary considerations with the joy of the occasional splurge.

I try to eat my cake, and have it to.