My Tank Runneth Over

I have estimated that my family spends a little more than $600 a month at the fuel pumps. OUCH.

Every time we pull up at the pumps, I get frustrated and I am certain I am not alone. I want to take action but I don’t know how. I can’t fight city hall to lower the exorbitant taxes on our fuel, the fees would just pop up somewhere else at a guaranteed much higher rate. 

I have no control over the oil rigs, and I certainly have no control over local politicians, but then again, neither does our president (badum-CHING), so I shouldn’t take it personally. But, I do.

If I were spending $600 a month on jewelry, I would be one “blinged out” Momma. Eventually, my bling fetish would cause such a reflection that people would need sunglasses to even look my direction and I am sure someone would throw out an “I  pity the fool…” here and there. 

Then, the stern “suggestions” from my parents  and my in-laws would eventually kick in, too, because I should be putting the superfluous money in a college fund and not into diamonds.  

If I took that $600 per month to a shoe factory-type store, I would easily have enough for 12 pairs of adult shoes or 20 pairs of children’s shoes each month. After three months of this frenzied spending, I'm sure the shoe store manager would be at my doorstep offering to drive me back for more, while my kids would be wearing a different pair of shoes each day, without repeats, for a month.

Or how about a little family pampering? At $40 a meal, my family could be waited on 15 times a month at many different restaurants and we would have time for a conversation, I wouldn’t need to cook at least two different meals a day and the dishwasher would be able to take a vacation. Less wear and tear on old steamy, that would be great.

With any of those approaches, we would be viewed as reckless with our spending, especially as we are falling into another recessive period. Somehow the $600 our family spends a month to commute to work, college, school, Walmart and once in a while, to visit family, is justified spending. It doesn’t even come with some sort of badge of honor that jewelry, shoes and dining out would offer.

How else does one combat the blues at the pump? Let’s turn those frowns upside down! It’s time to make gas the extravagant lifestyle that struggling families yearn for. Let's celebrate the destination of the pump! Who needs Paris?

I think it is time to get out of the car and start taking family photos in front of the gas station. If your family loves a day at the beach, put your swimsuits and snorkels on and pose in front of the station's sign.

Sorry, kids, there is no family vacation this year, but we do have gas!

For added family fun, have a Chinese Fire Drill each time you pull up at the pump. Use extra caution when it's junior’s turn to drive, of course. And maybe skip Sally from the rotation, since she's still wearing diapers. Common sense does need to kick in occasionally during our extravagance.

Heck, at this point, I am thinking about making a scrapbook album of gas station memories? Who needs ticket stubs to rekindle fond recollections anymore?

You can boast about your acquisitions on a page titled, “My Tank Runneth Over.” How precious would that be? Family photos taken at the pump, nestled next to your gas receipts documenting the date and time. It’s sure to make you feel warm and fuzzy all over!

And finally, not to lose touch with the frugal readers out there, I suggest adding a few drops of the finest petrol to your atomizer. A few spritzes would fool anyone into believing you frequent the most exclusive gas stations in the area.  

I won’t tell. It’ll be our little secret. Wink, wink.

What are we going to do America?  Fight the gas prices or indulge in them, it’s your choice.  Buy American!  --Is gas even partially American?  I am so confused.