Up until now, the recession hadn’t really affected Bryan and I. Sure, we shopped a little smarter, and things like that. But we both had our jobs, and our full pay.
That changed this morning after a little meeting I had.
My company is cutting base salaries all around by 9%. But wait! We want to make it up to you! We’ll give you ten, count ‘em, ten extra paid vacation days!
Um, thanks? So we have an extra two weeks of vacation but we have less money to enjoy them with. What do you expect me to do? Vacation time doesn’t pay my bills, folks.
First payroll admits they didn’t process my return to work paperwork on time, and delays my check for two weeks. Thusly, I’m going a full month without pay. Now this. My loyalty to this company is plummeting.
I’m not sayin’ I’m gonna up and quit. I need all the moolah I can get. But if something better were to come along….Let’s just say it won’t be a hard decision, y’know?
If they’re going to do this, they should at least let us drink at work. It’d make my collection process more interesting.
So, yeah…..HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND TO ME.
To say that I am mad, furious, angry, upset, or livid right now would be such a gross understatement. I am so engraged right now that my hands are shaking to the point where it's hard to even type.
Angel sent me an e-Mail saying that she had a proposition for me, that I should call her. Curious, I sent her a text message asking what was up. What followed makes me so fucking furious I can barely speak coherently.
She asked me to convince Bryan to give up ALL of his parental rights to the kids. She tried to tell me that it would be better since we could concentrate on us, devote all our time to Pook, and it would save us money, how the kids more or less hate me, and how he's a horrible father anyway, and he listens to me, so why don't I just put a bug in his ear?
I have several issues with her request. Number one, you do NOT drag my child into this unless you want to suffer a horrible death. You want to drag our innocent child into this mess? Sweety pie, you're going to open Pandoras box. You fuck with my child you fuck with me and trust me, when my temper flares up, Satan himself hides from me. Don't try to tell me how to parent MY DAUGHTER, and don't try to tell me how Bryan should parent OUR DAUGHTER. Don't try to tell me what she does and does not deserve. If you mention my child again, I swear to everything I hold dear you'll be eating from a straw for the rest of your miserable existence.
Secondly, my relationship with Bryan is none of her damn business. Have we hit a rough patch? Sure we have. Like all couples. But we're working through it, and I sincerely believe we will come out stronger for it. Unless and until our relationship starts damaging the kids in some way butt out of it.
Seriously? You're seriously trying to play the money angle with this? Let me tell you something, Twat Face, it wouldn't matter if he paid $6,000 a month in child support and we were eating ramen noodles every night. He will never, never, EVER give up his kids. Would it save us money? I'm sure it would. But those kids are worth every single fucking penny he/we spend on them, and more. Unlike you, Twat Face, we don't put a price on the love we have for them.
The kids DO NOT hate me. Oh, they say I'm mean do they? To be honest, in the beginning, I was overly harsh with them. I was 21 years old, had never dealt with kids before, and I was dealing with two kids who were CONVINCED (thanks to you) that I was here to replace their Mother. Over time, with just plain ole trial and error, guidance from Bryan, and listening & observing the kids, I've gotten MUCH better. I've learned that Bubs is a very sensitive little boy, and that he needs to be parented accordingly. I've learned that T is high spirited, and needs to be handled WORLDS differently than her brother. I've made mistakes but I've admitted to them and learned from them.
Twat Face, you seem to think that Bryan is the worlds worst father. Namely, because he missed a few of T's softball games. But let's examine the facts, shall we? He asked you repeatedly for a game schedule so we could be there. You only told him that she had games on Saturday. When, in reality, she actually played two games a week. But again, something you failed to mention. We still don't have a softball schedule. Oh, he doesn't stay home with them when they're sick? Well, golly, Twat Face, it'd be nice if you'd tell us WHEN THEY'RE SICK. The phone calls at 1800 hours of "Bubs was sick today and I stayed home with him, by the way." is crap. How the hell do you expect him to stay home with them if you don't tell him? I know, I know it's a novel concept.
Speaking of model parenting, let's examine you for a moment. No, no, Twat Face, despite what you think, you're not without blame here. Remember a few years ago? I know most of it is a drunken blur, and that is what I'm pointing out. You wanted absolutely nothing to do with YOUR KIDS unless it was a holiday when you could dress them up and show them off and Oh, aren't you just the perfect little (well, not anymore you're not little) Super Single Mom?! All you did was drink and party. Now, to your credit, you don't do that as much anymore. But again for the first part of their lives all you did was drink and left Bryan to deal with and raise your kids. Great parenting. I mean, honestly, you should write a book. I know!! You could call it, "What To Do If You Want To Scar Your Kids For Life...By Twat Face" Has a nice ring to it, don't it?
Furthermore, you bitch, if you have an issue with Bryans parenting, you need to bring it up with him. Not me. Texting me and sending me e-Mails behind his back is beyond chickenshit. Trying to recruit me into your bullshit plan is beyond stupid. Did you honestly think I'd go along with this? Did you really think I'd not tell Bryan?! How stupid are you? You're either A) incredibly stupid, B) incredibly drunk, C) incredibly high, or D) all of the above.
Lastly, Twat Face, don't ever try to tell me you love your kids again. If you truly loved them, you would not take them away from the father they absolutely ADORE and love. There's a damn good reason every time they see him they run up to him as fast as they can and give him bear hugs. Because they LOVE him. He is NOT a bad parent. He's not the perfect parent, but then again neither am I, and you're the furthest from perfect I've ever seen. You're right up there with my mother, which is scary to say the least. If you loved your kids even one iota, you'd never even think to take those kids away from him. And frankly, taking away those kids would kill Bryan. Literally. He loves all three of his kids with everything he has, and so do I.
If it weren't for the fact that it's illegal, and it would crush the kids, I swear to God I'd have no problems bitch slapping your pockmarked face until you finally got it. If you were laying in the gutter on fire, I wouldn't piss on you to save your life. I'd probably take a nice, healthy dump in your mouth. I hate you that much. You've enraged me to a point I've never been at before. You screwed with my kid. You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Twat Face.
For the last three days, I’ve played personal ass to my Sales Manager, Gerald.
Apparently, Sunday night his wife washed his pants and his Bluetooth was in the pocket. He asked if I would go get him a new one. Sure, not a problem. I didn’t know then that jinxed myself.
I went to one store, they’re not an official store so they couldn’t. So I ran to the mall. They can do it, but a manager has to get into that system, and he won’t be back until 1500. That won’t work, I’ve got to get back.
So I go on Tuesday, and go to the mall. Yay, the manager is on duty! Wait, what do you mean you can’t do it? No, the account holder isn’t here, I know that. He’s listed as being where? Connecticut? Well, what do you want me to do, fly him here? Yeah, sure, I’ll put it on my card.
I tell Gerald and he thanked me, asked me to sync it up to his phone. I said fine, holding the receipt. “Was there something else?” “Um, yeah, I had to put this on my card since I couldn’t charge it to the account.” “So you want me to pay you back?” WTF?! Uh, yeah, I kinda do! “Oh, well, just expense it for me then.” No, I don’t want to wait six weeks. You’ll pay me back by the end of the week.
But, alas, my quest wasn’t over. No, he didn’t like the earpiece. And in the wind the sound quality sucked. No shit, moron. Every headset sucks in the wind. I’m sorry, what? NO, I’m not going to trade with you! Le sigh. Yes, fine, I’ll get you a new one. But you’re giving me your corporate Amex. (Brave man, by the way. Giving me a credit card & telling me not to shop is liking setting a mirror full of cocaine in front of an addict and telling him not to snort.)
So, I return his Bluetooth and head over to WallyWorld, where it’s cheaper. I find out I can’t put it on his card because he’s not here and how do I know you’re not attempting identity theft, ma’am? You. Are. Not. Serious. Look, moron, I’m wearing a Bluetooth, see? Why would I buy another one? And seriously, if I was going to steal my bosses Amex don’t you think I’d do a bit more damage than a $60 Bluetooth at Wal-Mart?! I’d be in Nordstrom, stocking up for a new spring wardrobe. Yeah, fine, I’ll put it on my card.
But he doesn’t like that one, either. It takes two hands to put on, and it takes longer. Oh, no, the horror! Are you freaking kidding me?! It takes half a second longer! Get some patience! “I look like a girl with the sparkly silver stuff on it.” Dude, it’s an etched design, it’s not as if it’s covered in pink glitter. NO, I’m not going to return THAT one. Try it for a day, at least. What’s that, Gerald? Sigh, yeah, if you don’t like it you can have mine. Grrr. But you still owe me.
Y'know what I get sick of? Loans.
I take out loan after loan to pay for OUR bills. When Joe lost his job and couldn't make his share of the rent, guess who got asked to take out a loan to help? ME!! Wanna guess how pissed off I got?
Yep, enough to make Beezlebub himself say "Oh man, she is pissed."
Bryan wants me to take out YET ANOTHER loan to pay OUR daycare. Um, dude, I'm short (thanks, payroll) and down to my last dollar. I'm taking a vacation in a week. I need money for stupid things. Like food. I know, how frivolous of me, huh? And I've paid her every other time. Tell me why you can't do it this time? Oh, you're broke too? Well, punkin, I am sorry. Now you know how I feel every effing day. "Can you take out a loan?"
NO, ASSHOLE, I CAN'T! You take out the loan. Ask me again and you'll be even more broke. Why? Oh, nothing. Just some court-ordered child support.
Devil Woman reared her ugly head again. Once again, she’s fighting Bryan on taxes this year. But now she’s added a new twist, and changed her story.
Now she’s claiming that she didn’t have any taxes taken out this year, and she owes the IRS money. She wants half of Bryans tax return. Because, y’know, “You had Pook this year so you should befine.” She’s also claiming that T had to have a couple grand worth of dental work done, and the bill is past due, and she might need braces, and she needs money for that, too.
Every company in the US, if you don’t tell them to make changes to your deductions, they take the same deductions as they did the previous year. With that in mind, Devil Woman would’ve had to tell them to not take out any taxes last year. She shouldn’t be surprised that Uncle Sam wants his slice of the pie, but she is. Secondly, even if it was a payroll error and she didn’t tell them to make changes I have a hard time swallowing that she didn’t look at her pay stubs for a full year, or notice her paycheck was larger than usual. My paycheck is the same every time, and I still look at it. Even if it was $50 larger, I’d wonder why. But that’s just me.
Earlier on my blog I said that the tax return money was to be used to emergencies for the kids. I was wrong, it can be used however they see fit. Devil Woman, however, told Bryan, “Well that money is supposed to be for the kids, what have you been doing with yours?!” Bryan fired back with, “Read the divorce decree again, Devil Woman. We can use the money however we want. And besides, if that was the case, what happened to yours?!” To say that little comment made her irritated is like saying Hell is just one big sauna. (BTW, we’re using our tax returns on a new place, so we really need that cash.)
Pook is none of her business, and if she brings her up again, I’m gonna personally shove her attitude up her mammoth-sized arse.
T had dental work done? This is news to us. How odd, since T herself never mentioned it and that kid will give you a running commentary on her life if you let her. Secondly, why wasn’t Bryan informed of the bill, oh I don’t know, when it came two months ago?! And T needs braces now, eh? Gosh, that’s weird…That kid has perfect teeth. Bryan told Devil Woman he’d want to talk to the dentist first, to confirm what she’s saying, and Devil Woman came unglued. “Do you think I’m making this up?” Well, um, yeah, we kinda do. Sorry, toots, but you’re kinda known for making stuff up to get money, so yeah…
Needless to say, Bryan was fuming over all of this. She’s in debt and she can’t get herself out, and wants him to bail her out. Newsflash, Devil Woman, we’re notcongress, and we’re not approving a bail out plan for you. Every time the kids need something, he hands you money. He never asks what you’ve spent your child support on, he already knows the answer: you spent it on yourself.
Like you always did, and continue to do. You’ve got the perfect setup, don’t you? You get your child support payment every month, which never goes for the kids anyway, and whenever the kids need something, you know you can call him up and he’ll pony up the cash. Because what are his options? If he says no, you’ll let the kids go without. If he says yes, he’s just enabling you but the kids have what they need. He’s tried to tell you that for unexpected major expenses, he doesn’t have a problem paying half. But everyday stuff, like school supplies, new shoes, things like that you need to use the five hundred in child support. Besides, Devil Woman, you make more money a month that the both of us do combined, and yet you still need money. I guess sleeping with the boss has its advantages. How’shis wife, by the way? Still married to him? How ‘bout that.
The sad part about all this is I know many women who do the exact same thing. They spend the child support on themselves and then call their exes for money. Now, I’m not saying that Bryan shouldn’t pay child support, nor does he have problems paying it. And if she truly needed more money a month in support, why hasn’t she gone through the courts? Isn’t that what they’re there for? Now granted, I’ve never had to file for child support, so I don’t know the inner workings. And I personally feel that parents who fail to pay child support should be tarred & feathered.
However, in this case, verily I say unto thee, Devil Woman: go to Hades.
Dearest Douchey Dave,
I know, how dare I have the audacity to use your checkout line for my WIC checks to get the formula I desperately needed? I had an eighth of a can left, and wouldn't you know it, the baby still needs formula? Whoda thunkit?
Now, I'm going to give your douchey self the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you'd had a craptastic day. Maybe you'd encounted some Mother using her TANF card to get smokes & beer and it ticked you off. Maybe you thought I was going to be the same thing. (I assure you, I'm not.) Maybe your wife left you. Maybe your dick of a boss called you to work the late shift, and you had a date with the hot blonde from Produce. Either way, you decided that you were going to take it out on me.
I lined up my formula cans, all nice and in a row for you. I told you before you even scanned the first damn can,
"This will be purchased using WIC." I tried to be nice. I tried to be cordial.
"WIC? Oh, geez." You, Douchey Dave, replied. WTF do you mean, 'Oh, geez'? Is it that hard of a concept? You scan, the little screen tells you the total, you accept my voucher. The hardest part is verifying that the name on the ID matches the name on the check.
You scan the formula. All the while, you're sighing loudly like I"ve done something terrible, and I'm sooo putting you out, and you have better things to be doing than being a cashier. (Like the aforementioned blonde from Produce.)
Finally, after lots of eye rolling, Douchey Dave, you're done. I hand you my vouchers and say congenially,
'Give me just one second, and I'll give you my ID."
"Do you even have your drivers license on you, ma'am, I need to verify this."
By this time I'm wondering if I whispered. Maybe you didn't hear me? But, still, I'm trying to be nice here. You're making it hard though, Douchey Dave.
"Yes, I do, I have it right here." I hand it over, "I'm sorry, it took me a second to get it out." I feebly smile.
"Whatever, ma'am." I look up to see if you're making a light-hearted sarcastic comment. You are not.
I get my reciept, mumble to have a good night, and slink out to the parking lot. My boyfriend knows I am on the verge of crying, ashamed, and outraged.
Listen up, Douchey Dave. You make what, $9-$10 an hour? Chances are if you had a kid, you'd be on the Good Ship WIC, too. Don't act like you're better than me. You're not. For one thing, you're at least 40, if your skin, wrinkles, and hair are any indication. And yet you're still a cashier. Your high school reunion must've been embarassing for you. Here's a thought: I make $3 more per hour than you, and I can still barely afford to feed myself. I don't live extravagantly by any means. I buy store brand crap, it's cheaper. I shop the sales. If I'm out of smokes and I'm broke/it's a choice between food or smokes, I go without. Unlike a lot of smokers, who would find the cash. Here's a statistic for ya: per Lisa, my case manager at WIC, WA state has seen a 30% increase in the last year for state aid of some form. 30%, Douchey!
"Get a better job, then!" you might say. Sure, because the job market is just booming right now. I'll get right on that. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can be a cashier, just like you!!!
"Should've shut your legs, then." you might say. Well, I didn't and I don't. I like sex. A lot of sex. I like sex like a crack addict likes crack. It's a drug, and I've been addicted for awhile.
"Should've had an abortion, then." you might say. Not an option for me.
"Should've given the kid up, then." you might say. Again, not an option for me.
Either way, Douchey Dave, drop the pissy 'tude. I'm no different than the other millions (literally) of parents out there who, thanks to G. Dubya, need a bit of help. Either you get the dildo out of your ass, or next time me and Mr. Manager have a nice little chat about how you can improve your 'tude.
Have a nice day, and thank you for working at Albertsons!
Ever opened up a Christmas gift and wanted to bawl? C'mon, we've all been there. Whether it was Aunt Edna giving you yet another ass-ugly Christmas sweater that Mom will make you wear for "just one picture" or opening up a gift that practically screams "I was bought at midnight last night at 7-11!". Here's my list of the top 10 All-Time Worst Christmas Gifts:
1) Chia Pet
The old stand-by. Nobody likes watching Scooby-Doo grow a head of alfalfa. Seriously, what better way to tell the recipient you totally forgot about them than with a Chia Pet?
2) Socks
Again, all you're doing here is telling me how much you totally forgot.
3) Birth Control
Yes, you read that right. Planned Parenthood is giving out gift certificates, and of course, they're the perfect gift. Thanks, but I'll keep my sexual health and birth control preferences to myself thanks, Mom. Awk-ward!
4) Holiday Sweaters
Look, if we wear them it's because Mom forced us to. Other than that, they're going in the backs of our closets never to see the light of day again.
5) Exercise Equipment
Exactly what are you trying to tell me here, dickshit?
6) Cooking or Cleaning Supplies
I don't care if you absolutley love my meatloaf or the way the glass sparkles after I'm done brings tears to your eyes. Now is not the time to say it.
7) Anything used
The ONLY exception here is jewelry. And even that comes with a few caveats (for example, don't give wife #2 a bracelet that wife #1 wore, unless you like getting divorced.) But if the DVD is missing the celophane, has a few scratches, or that 'gourmet' popcorn tin is missing some kernels....Tacky.
8) Clothing
My parents used to buy me clothing they wanted to see my wear, not stuff I'd actually wear. Look folks, chances are you're going to get the wrong size, wrong color, or wrong style in general. Stick to gift cards.
9) Anything living
Such as, oh say, a puppy? (If you do, tell Mom first. The only reason I wasn't killed was because Jesus frowns upon murdering your young on Christmas Eve.)
10) Fruitcake
Then again, if your intention is to quietly & underhandedly tell the person how much you loathe & despise them, go for it. As a matter of fact, there are a few people on my Scrooge list getting fruitcake this year.
* * *
Every parent has rules for their child(ren). I'm no different. Now, even though the Old Wolf may slightly disagree, I was a complete angel growing up. However, occasionaly I would misbehave. I assure you, these were few and far between. (If your definition of few is 5 times daily.) So, in light of personal experience, here's the rules I've concocted for Pook.
1) No dating until you're 18.
No, seriously. I know exactly what boys want, and they're not getting it from you. Besides, I'm not letting some prick break your heart. I'd have to kill the little bastard, and apparently the law frowns upon it.
2) No shaving your legs.
Nobodies going to be touching them, so why do they need to be smooth? If God wanted your legs hairless, He would've made them that way.
3) No tank-tops, shorts, or short skirts.
Showing skin reminds boys of being naked. Being naked reminds them of sex. See rules number one.
4) You may nothing stronger than coffee to drink.
I know exactly what happens when people drink alcohol. (How do you think half the world population came into existence?) If you want to know what happens if you smoke cigarettes, ask Grandpa what he did when he caught Mommy with them.
5) God gave you a certain number of holes.
Keep it that way. No piercings of any kind. This goes for tatoos, too. If God had wanted you to be inked or with more holes than you already have...That's right, He would've given them to you.
6) When you do finally date, make sure the guy turns in the completed packet.
He needs to turn in the application, credit history, job history, 3 letters of reccomendation (1 must be from a religious figure), dating history, criminal history, social security number, and polygraph analysis. Packets turned in without any of the aforementioned means you're staying home and Douchebag Boy has 3 seconds to leave my property before I load the 12 gauge.
Well, now that we got that cleared up! You go and have a fun time, sweetheart.
Dear Mommy Guilt,
Hello there again. It's always nice when you drop in. I've been meaning to say this for some time now, so I guess now is as good a time as ever. Whew, here I go: KISS MY ASS. I've never liked you to begin with, and tonight just sealed the deal for our break up. You read me correct, I told you to kiss off. Permanently, you bitch. That is all.
Sincerely,
Heidi
So tonight was my office party. As everyone knows, Pook has had a cold for the last week or so. But, Bryans parents offered to take her overnight, and we all too happily accepted. After all, Bryan and I haven't been out without the kids since Pook was born. And I haven't had the chance to dress up in over a year, either. And by dress up, I mean I got my nails done, my hair done, my makeup done, bought a new dress, and shaved my legs. Ever since I bought my $20 dress, I've been fighting off waves of Mommy guilt. My nails cost another $15. Part of me knows that spending $20 on a dress and $15 on a brand new set of nails is dirt cheap. But the Mommy guilt part of me knows that that's $35 that could've gone towards some for Pook. At any rate, we went to my office party. And I had a drink! And I had fun! And I didn't worry about Pook! (Granted, the inlaws have roughly 50 years combined nursing experience under their belts, raised Bry and his sister and Bubs and T.) At any rate, the conversation didn't revolve around her cold, eating habits, or bowel movements! (Why am I online instead of enjoying my night alone? I digress.)
But tonight I actually let myself enjoy myself. For the first time since she was born. And tonight, I've officially decided that the Mommy Guilt I've been carrying around over this party can KISS MY ASS. I deserve some me time every now and then, dammit.
 Afterwards, exhausted but happy.
 Isn't it bad when the next morning you look better than you did the night before?
Well, it's official. Pook has a cold. The first cold of her life. Fuck me sideways, this blows. She won't eat, won't sleep, and has the tiniest little cough I've ever heard. Oh, and lets not forgot the fact that she cries. Nonstop. Nothing makes her happy. The last 24 hours in my house have been rife with crying, as well as Bryan and I mumbling sleepily, "Your turn."
Aaaand what sick family would be complete without an under the weather Mama? Yes, thanks to my stupid brain relocating the pain from my tongue, I have a killer earache.
Now before people start saying "You should try..." please keep in mind that until Bryan gets paid tomorrow we're dead broke. How broke is dead broke? Dead broke as in if the car ran out of gas right now, we wouldn't be going anywhere. Dead broke as in Vicks VapoRub is $4 and it's out of the question. So, until he gets paid there is no buying Vicks, or the humidifier that we so badly need.
And we still have to pay for her daycare, (where she got the cold in the first place), get groceries, and try to have Christmas. Oh yeah, and I'm supposed to be saving money so I can fucking have fun in California.
Aaaaaand, screw you too!
Let’s just call this what it is: a recession. There, I’ve said it. No more kidding myself that things aren’t really as bad as they seem. I am very fortunate that Bryan and I still have our jobs and a warm place to live. While gas prices have finally gone down so that we can finally afford to fill our tanks up, ($1.69 a gallon, y’all!), what we do worry about is how to feed our families. Grocery prices, at least in my neck of the woods, still border on usury. But, we have found ways to eat well on the cheap. Here’s a few secrets and recipes. (Disclaimer: keep in mind that you’re taking cooking tips from the woman who made chicken soup so bad the dog wouldn’t eat it.)
-Shop the sales and bring coupons. A local grocery store, Yokes, has chicken and ground beef on sale regularly for $1.29 a pound. We buy as much as we possibly can. Albertsons also has ten to $10.00 days, and if there is a Safeway near you….Get the club card. It’s totally free, and I cannot tell you how many times we’ve shaved upwards of $30 off our bill using that club card.
-That being said, don’t be afraid to buy a little something for yourself. For example, lately Wal-Mart has had Oreos on sale 2 for $5.00, so we buy two packages. Or sometimes they have Bryans chips on sale 2 for $6.00, so he can have his treat. Typically those treats last us quite a while, and it feels good to have some comfort food.
-Don’t be afraid to give those leftovers a makeover. Left over hamburger meat? Make tacos! Already taco seasoned? Make a casserole, a soup, or hey have a nacho night. For example, we have tons of leftover turkey. I am making a stew out of the leftovers.
-Don’t be afraid to Google what food you have for a recipe. Just type in the foods you want to use and recipe and you’ll come up with lots of hits, I promise you.
-If you can afford it and have the space, buy in bulk. We buy a lot of chicken and ground beef. We also buy London Broil steaks. They’re huge. One steak makes for 5-6 meals, easily. When you get it home, cut it up in the portion sizes you want, and freeze them. Yes, you can eat steak during a recession. If you eat a lot of tacos and brown gravy like we do, it pays to go to your local bulk store like Cosco or Sams Club and get the bigger container.
Also, here are some general recipe and meal ideas to eat well on the cheap:
-Chicken Caesar salad. Shredded or cubed chicken, dressing, and cheese. Or you can grab some wraps and have wraps.
-Taco night! About a pound of ground beef, some taco seasoning, and some taco shells is all your need for this. Where this can get expensive is when you add the toppings: guacamole, sour cream, cheese, you get the idea.
-Meatloaf! The old standby. A pound of ground beef mixed with a cup of oatmeal, one egg, and I personally prefer Johnnys seasoning salt and garlic powder. We always make real mashed potatoes to go with it. You can find a sack of potatoes, 10 pounds for $3 here.
-Make your own burgers. If you want to give it a kick, add some onion soup mix.
-Take a portion of your steak, cut it up and throw it into a stew. Cheap, filling, and good.
-Breakfast night! We always have bacon, (its cheaper to buy from the deli. Especially if you get the end pieces. You just have to ask for them!) eggs, and hashbrowns. Pancakes are another easy and cheap food to make too.
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