— You spend too much money on yourself, — my husband said. I suggested that he try living for one month on his own salary alone.
— Look, Tolya, what a great purchase! — I showed my husband my new winter boots. — Leather, and fifty percent off!
Anatoly glanced at the box and grimaced.
— Boots again? You already have about five pairs! You spend too much on yourself, Olya. You’re constantly buying something — a dress, boots, some expensive cosmetics.
I counted silently. Five pairs in ten years. But the fact that I paid eight thousand yesterday for utilities and spent four thousand on groceries for the week — of course, he doesn’t count that as spending. He only notices my purchases.
— I don’t buy anything unnecessary for myself, — he went on. — I wear old shoes, keep my shirts for five years. And all you know how to do is waste money on nonsense.
— Tolya, I need these boots. The old ones are completely worn out.
— You need them, sure! — he waved his hand dismissively. — You women always “need” everything! If everyone were responsible only for themselves, you’d learn how to save right away!
That sentence gave me a wonderful idea.
— You know what, Tolya, — I said, carefully putting the box with the boots into the closet. — You’re right. Let’s run an experiment.
— What kind of experiment?
— Next month we live with separate budgets. Everyone is responsible for themselves. You live only on your salary — you buy your own food, clothes, hygiene products, and pay your half of the utilities. I live on my salary and buy whatever I think is necessary. Let’s see which of us spends more on “nonsense.”
Anatoly straightened up. A spark of challenge lit up in his eyes.
— Great idea! I’ll show you how a real man knows how to save! I’ll even have plenty of money left over, and you’ll finally understand what real thrift is!
— Deal. We split the utilities strictly in half — four thousand each. We buy groceries separately. I cook only for myself, you cook for yourself. No one supports anyone.
— Easy! — he declared confidently. — The month will fly by, and you’ll see the difference!
On payday, Anatoly ceremoniously laid out his money on the table — forty-two thousand rubles.
— Here! — he announced proudly. — This will be enough for everything, and I’ll still have money left!
I silently set aside four thousand for my half of the utilities and started making my own shopping list.
The next day, he went to the store himself. He came back with a bag of the cheapest pasta, sausages, and white bread.
— Filling and economical! — he announced, arranging his purchases on his side of the refrigerator. — Not like your overpriced delicacies!
I stayed silent, taking proper meat, vegetables, and good bread out of my bag. I cooked separately for myself. The smell of my dinner filled the kitchen while he chewed on his sausages with pasta.
— Why do you waste money on expensive meat? — he grumbled. — Sausages are meat too.
The first week passed relatively calmly. Anatoly felt like a successful economist. But then the utility bill arrived.
— Four thousand is my share? — he stared at the numbers. — For what exactly?
— For half of the apartment you live in, — I explained patiently. — Heating, electricity, water, garbage collection, capital repairs.
Reluctantly, he counted out the bills. There was noticeably less money left in his wallet.
In the second week, he ran out of cheap laundry detergent.
— Three hundred rubles for a pack of good detergent? — Anatoly protested in the store. — That’s robbery!
— You can buy the cheap one again, — I suggested.
He bought the cheap one. After three washes, his favorite shirt turned gray.
— What kind of garbage is this?! — he fumed, examining the ruined shirt.
— Good detergent costs more, — I reminded him, loading my clothes, washed with a high-quality product.
In the third week, he ran out of coffee.
— Eight hundred rubles for a jar of coffee? — he turned red in the store. — That’s insane!
— Drink instant coffee, — I advised.
He bought the cheapest instant coffee. Two days later, he was spitting and complaining, watching me enjoy my fragrant freshly ground coffee.
By the end of the third week, he had only a few coins left. Payday was still a week away, and there was nothing left to buy.
— Olya… — he began guiltily, coming up to me in the kitchen. — There’s a situation… I’m completely out of money. And my transit pass has expired.
I looked up at him from my tablet, where I was making my shopping list for the next week.
— And what do you want?
— Well… maybe you could lend me some? Just a little?
— Tolya, we had an agreement. Everyone is responsible for themselves. That was your principle.
— But I didn’t think everything would be so expensive…
— I did. Because I buy all of this every month.
He stood there silently, shifting from one foot to the other.
— You could ask for an advance at work, — I suggested. — Or find a weekend side job.
— A side job? — he was stunned. — I’m already sixty!
— I’m fifty-five, and somehow I manage my budget just fine.
In the following days, he walked to work to save on transportation. He lived on pasta alone. And I, as usual, bought myself decent food, good cosmetics, and quality items.
At the end of the month, he sat down next to me on the couch. He looked worn out.
— Olya, I get it now, — he said quietly. — I had no idea everything costs so much. That living requires this much money.
— Forty-two thousand wasn’t enough? — I asked.
— I barely made it to payday. And that was on pasta alone.
— And with my forty thousand, I paid for the apartment, ate well, bought boots, and even went to a beauty salon.
He shook his head.
— How do you manage it?
— I know how to plan. And I don’t buy nonsense — I buy what’s necessary. I’ll wear those boots for ten years. A good cream lasts six months. And quality food doesn’t harm your health — you spend less on medicine.
The experiment was over. The reproaches toward me stopped forever.
A month later, we were shopping together. Anatoly no longer grimaced when I picked good food or looked at quality clothes.
— Get the more expensive coat, — he said. — The cheap one will wear out quickly, and then you’ll have to buy a new one anyway.
I smiled. The experiment turned out even better than I had expected.
