That’s Not Fair!

Our parents were frugal, sometimes much to their children’s chagrin. 

Mom sewed most of our clothes—a wonderful money-saver right up until we hit the age when buying cool jeans was a matter of social survival. She was an excellent seamstress, and we loved that she kept sewing our formal dresses, including all of our prom dresses (sans the popular 1970s sequins most of the time, thank goodness).

She was also a great cook. She could stretch a single kielbasa and a box of Kraft mac-and-cheese to feed a family of five. I still marvel over how she accomplished so much from so little.

However, this frugality came with its drawbacks, the biggest of which was sharing. That concept is a background theme in many movies, but not typically featured. So here’s a real-life scenario tailored for a possible scene in an upcoming film.

Our parents didn’t think each of us needed a full can of soda, and the soda would last longer through the month if we used two cans instead of three. “A whole can of pop is too much for one person,” Mom would say. So we were required to split two cans among the three of us on the one weekend night we were allowed to drink it.

Picture this… three glasses (clear, you’ll see why momentarily), three young girls at the table, and two cans of Shasta brand soda. The standard process:

Step one: Open one can and pour it among all three glasses.

Step two: Open the second can and pour a little into each one, making sure it’s evenly distributed across all glasses.

Step three: Pick a glass, add ice as desired, and drink.

Sounds easy, right? If you grew up with siblings, you probably already know where this is going. If not, then let me explain how it really went. 

Step one: Discuss which flavor of soda to drink. There’s grape, root beer, cola, cherry cola, and sometimes cream soda, all arranged and cooling in the fridge. Three girls with different likes and favorites deciding on one flavor as a group didn’t always go smoothly. Most of the time, Mom and Dad stayed out of it, teaching us diplomacy, I guess. But they never let it go too far, deciding for us on the nights we couldn’t agree.

Step two: Stand around the table. One of the three of us would be the designated “pourer” for that evening, which changed each week. We’d unceremoniously split the first can among the three glasses. The second can was a different story. Three girls at the table, each bending over and eyeballing the glasses while the contents of the next can were added. (Cue the background music adding to the tension.) If anyone saw an injustice being done, she would call out, “Not fair! That one isn’t even!” Then came the challenge of getting the soda from the “over-filled” glass to the “under-filled” glass.

Over time, we learned that it was easier to use a straw to make the drinks as even as possible. Stick one end of the straw into one glass, plug the top with your finger, then hold the straw over the other glass and release your finger, letting the soda drop down. When using a straw to balance liquid levels drop by drop, we probably looked less like children drinking pop and more like mad scientists conducting high-stakes laboratory work.

Step three: Each of us would reach for the glass that “looked the fullest” first. I can’t remember if any of us won that race most often, but we eventually took what was closest. Each would add a couple of ice cubes to the already cold soda (ice had to be added AFTER pouring to ensure the most even distribution of the liquid, of course), then sit down to watch Saturday night TV and enjoy some delicious buttered popcorn Mom had popped earlier.

As an adult now, I can picture our parents in the living room while we girls were negotiating in the kitchen. If only I could have seen their faces, but I can imagine them trying to stifle laughter as they heard how seriously their daughters were handling the situation. Sometimes they would call in from the living room to help, but if either one had to get up from their chair and come to the kitchen, that was when we knew we’d better just buck up and agree to disagree.

Ah, the lessons we learned over the years—sharing and fairness being among the most important. Sometimes they are difficult lessons, but important nonetheless, and most of the time, we can laugh about them later.