It’s gettin’ summertime down here in the South—actually, I’m hearing that much of the nation is under a heat wave. I am born-and-bred Southern, so I don’t know why it always seems to catch me by surprise each year, but it does. Little car’s outside thermometer has twice this week registered over 100 degrees F on the asphalt as I pulled out of the parking lot at the end of the day, although it cooled by at least ten degrees out here in the country.
I worked last Saturday and have worked loooong hours this week. I have been tired, needless to say. But the other day, as I pulled into MIL’s driveway after work, I realized that for the first time in several days I felt pretty good at the end of the day. Maybe this is because I had just settled a difficult case in a way that I am convinced will be of benefit to the poor seven-year-old caught in the middle of his parents’ torment. Or maybe it’s that common-cold/pink eye virus losing its potency. Either way, I felt pretty good.
“Nope,” MIL said, “We’re going to YaYa’s!” (this is a splurge, indeed; a great treat).
She continued: "And I’m buying!” (Ooooooooo! Double treat! )
YaYa’s EuroBistro is what we like to call our “neighborhood Bistro.” It is, after all, only thirteen miles from our country home (believe me, there is nothing of substance any closer).
It’s a very nice restaurant with attentive, black-clad waiters who make you feel special. The food is divine. We love it (can you tell?), but it is not in the budget for frequent dining.
The pictures here are of YaYa’s, sans customers
And, it was every bit as good as I had anticipated. We had a glass of wine each. MIL had grilled Salmon with seafood raviolis. I had rainbow trout (perfect!) with Yukon gold potatoes and long green beans.
As I sat there, I thought about our splurge. It was pricier than most dinners we have…certainly far more than what I fix myself at home. I had planned only on, say, barbeque or Mexican food, which would have been far more “reasonable.” But I think the uplifted spirits and the company was worth the extra Dollars. (Especially since they were MIL’s dollars!)
I think that the value of the a splurge is not just the Dollars involved; it is also enhanced by the very fact that it is infrequent, limited by the budget as it is—perhaps if I ate at YaYa’s weekly, it wouldn’t feel so splurgey (?). As it is, it feels special.
But it sure did feel good! It will tide me over splurge-wise for a while.
Sometimes you just have to fit “splurge” into the budget…
Thanks, Immigrant Daughter! C