my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe
We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.
First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths," I snapped. "Get on Asda’s website right now." His face froze.
“A-Asda?" he whispered. "But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.”
This was a good start.
We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast," he said.
“Toast," I said. "Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—”
“Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.”
“You WHAT?" I choked. "You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?”
He frowned. “Who doesn’t?”
“Okay," I said, "but what will the children eat?”
He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?”
We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes," he agreed; "if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.”
He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh," I said. "Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.”
“But I’m not.”
“Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—”
“Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?”
He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.”
We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay," he said, clearly thinking hard; "for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?”
“Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.”
“We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.”
“You and your children!" he yelled, and the whole class looked around.
“They’re your children too!" I screamed back.
He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!”
“Please," I cried, standing up also. "Don’t—”
“I want a divorce!”
And he walked out of the classroom.
The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry," I whispered, "but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.”
I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.
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I need to kiss you so badly. One of those kisses where I’m pressing against you as much as possible and my hands are in your hair and moving down your back, clutching to you in any way I can, kissing you as deeply as possible and thinking you’re mine, mine mine.”
me, to you
sometimes i think that i am not so stereotypical of an american
and then i remember that i consider the coke freestyle machine one of the greatest modern inventions
i mean look at this thing
over 100 choices, computerized mixing, one spout, touch screen, ice dispenser
have u ever seen anything so wondrous and beautiful??
I hate this side.
So the idea is this:
- You like/reblog this post (reblogs preferable so as many people as possible can see it!).
- The deadline for reblogging is 1st November 2014, at midnight.
- I’ll choose a name/url for you and will send you this in a message before 22nd November - make sure you have your asks turned on so that you can receive them!
- You send nice anonymous messages to this person throughout December.
- You receive nice anonymous messages from your Secret Santa throughout December.
- On Christmas Day you can reveal who you are, if you so wish.
Christmas can be a difficult time, with food and family and the general stress of everything, so I thought this might be a nice little project for us. There’s no pressure to follow me. It’d be lovely if you do since I’ll be putting quite a lot of time and effort into this project but there is honestly no pressure. I don’t know if this has been done before. It probably has but I don’t think that there is a limit on sending/receiving nice messages!
Me: ask me anything guys, nothing is off the limits.
Me: okay, I'll just reblog some pictures.