Witten by Melpomene

The Coupon Fetish


All right, I admit it. I am a coupon addict. I love coupons: cutting them out, sticking them in the specially designed accordion file, lugging said file to the grocery store and watching my grocery total drop by ten, twenty, sometimes as much as fifty dollars.

On Sunday afternoons I’ll pop in a tape into the VCR, shoo my son outside, and pullout the savings sections of the newspaper, my scissors flying and fingers leafing through the file. Each type of grocery item has its proper space and is placed accordingly, and when I’m not using them, the scissors are regulated to the secretary where I’ll be able to locate them the following Sunday.

My son has learned not to disturb me while I’m clipping coupons; I’m not a happy camper when such a thing occurs. The interrupter of today’s clipping frenzy came in the form of my thirteen year-old cousin. Michelle plopped down on the couch next to my stack of newspaper and picked up the top page, attracted by the glossy pictures of sweets.

“Don’t touch my coupons,” I warned her, casting a sidelong look her way.

“What?”

“Don’t take my coupons,” I repeated.

“Yeah, right,” she replied, giving me the “you have completely lost it now” look that is so natural to teenagers.

“I’m the one with the scissors, watch it,” I warned, pleased that she eyed the flashing metal I held warily and replaced the leaf of coupons on the stack beside me.

end

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