«You spent nine hundred hryvnias on all this?!» Mykola pulled a chicken, potatoes, bread, and a pack of butter out of the bag. «Do you even realize how hard I work, and you just throw money around like that?!»
«Do you even realize how much groceries cost nowadays?» Halyna asked calmly.
«Of course I do! You just don’t know how to save! My mother could make a whole meal out of nothing and still have leftovers for the next day!»
Halyna looked at her husband, then at the chicken, then back at her husband.
«You know what, Mykola? Next week, why don’t you do the grocery shopping and cook as well. Show me how a real household should be run.»
«Piece of cake!» Mykola was almost excited. «I’ll prove to you that you waste half our money!»
«Deal,» his wife nodded. «Just don’t say I didn’t warn you later.»
Mykola grinned smugly. He had no idea that the next seven days would forever change his views on the family budget. And the biggest surprise was waiting for him on Sunday, when the kids and grandkids were coming to visit.
continued in the comments
—
Halyna was fifty-six, Mykola was fifty-nine. They had been married for thirty-four years. They raised their daughter Oksana, bought an apartment, survived multiple renovations, two job changes, and countless family arguments.
But lately, there was one topic that could ruin even the best day for Mykola.
Money.
Or more specifically, the money Halyna spent on groceries.
Mykola worked as an electrician at a company. Halyna was an accountant at a small firm. They both earned money, but for some reason, Mykola was convinced that his salary was the one feeding the whole family.
«I make the money, and all you do is run from store to store!» he loved to repeat.
Halyna usually joked back:
«Oh, right. I especially love how money magically turns into borscht, cutlets, and clean shirts.»
But her husband didn’t get the jokes. The little purchases especially got on his nerves.
«Why did you buy bread again? You already bought some two days ago!»
«Because you ate it yesterday with lard.»
«And why the butter?»
«Because you eat sandwiches in the morning.»
«And the cheese?»
«Mykola, you asked for syrnyky yesterday!»
«Well, you could have come up with something without cheese!»
One time, Halyna couldn’t take it anymore and asked:
«Tell me, do you even remember the last time you did a week’s food shopping on your own?»
Mykola thought for a moment.
«What’s there to buy? You just go, grab what you need, pay. It’s not rocket science!»
That was when Halyna realized that explanations wouldn’t help anymore. It was time to let her husband run the household himself.
—
On Sunday evening, Halyna put three thousand hryvnias on the kitchen table.
«Here you go, Mykola. Money for groceries until next Sunday. Last week, we spent about this much. There’s two of us, we eat lunch at home, and you also take food to work.»
«Three thousand?!» her husband protested. «I could live for half a month on that!»
«Great. If there’s anything left, we’ll set it aside.»
«There’ll surely be plenty left!»
«Just remember, next Sunday Oksana, Serhii, and the kids are coming. I promised them a family dinner.»
«Don’t worry. I’ll feed the guests too!»
«Alright. I’m taking a week off from the kitchen.»
Mykola even threw his hands up in triumph.
“Go ahead and rest! It’s not like I can’t cook potatoes without you!”
Halyna just smiled quietly. She hadn’t looked forward to a Monday like this in ages.
On Monday, Mykola came back from the store in a fantastic mood. He proudly set two bags down on the table.
“Check it out!” he said triumphantly. “Pasta, buckwheat, potatoes, a dozen eggs, bread, sausage, tea. And you know how much it cost?”
“How much?”
“Six hundred and eighty hryvnias! And you always leave nine hundred in one go!”
Halyna carefully inspected the groceries.
“Nicely done. But where are the other vegetables?”
“There’s potatoes!”
“And milk?”
“What for?”
“You drink coffee with milk in the morning.”
“This week I’ll have it without milk. Saving money!”
“And butter?”
“There’s margarine! It’s three times cheaper!”
Halyna nodded.
“Alright, head of the house, what’s for dinner then?”
“Pasta with sausage!”
Dinner turned out pretty decent. Mykola sat content, complimenting his own culinary skills and glancing at his wife every now and then.
“See? Nothing complicated!”
“I see,” Halyna agreed.
The next morning, breakfast was pasta with sausage. And for dinner—pasta again.
“Mykola,” his wife asked gently, “what will you cook tomorrow?”
“Buckwheat!”
“With what?”
“We’ll see!”
On Wednesday, Mykola had his first run-in with the unfairness of modern shopping. He went to buy some chicken. At the meat counter, he studied the prices for a long time and then called over the saleswoman.
“Excuse me, why is the fillet so expensive?”
“That’s the price, sir.”
“Is there anything cheaper?”
“There are thighs, drumsticks, or a whole chicken.”
“And if I only want a little bit?”
“How much exactly?”
Mykola showed with his fingers.
“About two hundred grams.”
The saleswoman looked at him.
“So, are you buying for soup or for the cat?”
“For dinner with my wife!”
“Then take at least half a kilo. Once you fry it, there won’t be enough for two.”
Mykola grimaced, but bought half a kilo anyway. Then he remembered he’d need onions for the meat. He went to the vegetable section, saw the price of tomatoes, and decided life could go on just fine without them.
At the checkout, he realized they were out of cooking oil at home. He had to go back. That evening, he silently placed his purchases on the table.
“So, did you save any money?” Halyna asked.
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“They put whatever prices they want there!”
“Now that’s news!” his wife said in surprise. “And here I thought you just weren’t counting the money right before.”
Mykola pretended not to hear.
On Thursday, he decided to make borscht. Not just plain soup—real, hearty borscht you could almost stand a spoon in.
“You’ll see, Halia!” he declared. “I’ll make a whole pot of borscht—enough for three days!”
Halyna was just getting ready for work.
“Alright. Just make sure you buy cabbage.”
“I will.”
“And beets.”
“I know!”
“Carrots, tomato paste, greens…”
“Halia! I’ve eaten borscht for fifty-nine years! Don’t you think I know what goes in it?!”
“Eating and cooking are two different things,” she quietly pointed out.
That evening, she was met by an unusual smell. Mykola was by the stove, red from the heat and staring thoughtfully into the pot.
“So, how’s it going, chef?”
“Halia, why does the borscht look… pale?”
Halyna peeked inside.
“Where’s the beetroot?”
“I boiled it together with the potatoes.”
“Did you add tomato paste?”
“Forgot.”
“And cabbage?”
“It’s floating in there!”
Halyna looked at what was in the pot.
– Mykola, this isn’t borscht. It’s a vegetable soup with big dreams.
Her husband took offense.
– You’re always so critical!
– No, I’ll eat it. Just give me some sour cream.
Mykola froze.
– I didn’t buy any sour cream.
Halyna silently picked up her spoon. After ten minutes, her husband put aside his own portion too.
– You know, tomorrow we’ll cook something else.
– Who’s this “we”?
– Well… I meant me, of course.
On Friday at work, Mykola complained to his colleague Petro.
– Can you imagine, three thousand a week! And it’s still not enough!
Petro was just pulling homemade stuffed cabbage rolls from his container.
– What did you expect? Everything’s gotten more expensive.
– But my Halyna used to manage just fine!
– Maybe she knows something you don’t?
– What could she possibly know that’s so special?
Petro put down his fork.
– Kolia, do you remember how much a kilo of butter costs?
– Well, roughly…
– And a dozen eggs?
– Uh…
– What about laundry detergent?
– What does detergent have to do with anything?!
– Someone has to buy that too. And toilet paper. And soap. And salt. And sugar. You use all of that at home, right?
Mykola fell silent. Petro smiled.
– My wife gave me all the shopping duties once a month. After two weeks, I begged her to take them back.
– And what did she say?
– She said she’d only take it back if I paid extra for moral damages.
For the first time that week, Mykola laughed. But in the evening, he wasn’t laughing anymore. He counted up the money he had left. Seven hundred and twenty hryvnias. And there were still two days till Sunday, when he had to feed six people for the family lunch.
On Saturday, Mykola woke up earlier than his wife. He sat in the kitchen for a long time with a pen and piece of paper, writing, crossing things out, and recalculating.
Then he went to the store. Came back with chicken thighs, potatoes, carrots, and the cheapest cookies he could find.
Halyna was just having her coffee.
– Where’s the groceries for tomorrow?
– Right here!
– What about salad?
– There’ll be potato salad.
– And something to go with tea?
– Cookies!
– But the grandkids specifically asked for homemade pastries.
– Halyna, you can’t please everyone!
– Of course you can’t, – she said calmly. – But you can explain it to Oksana yourself. I’m not getting involved.
Mykola sighed.
– Listen, maybe you could at least tell me how to roast those thighs?
Halyna looked over her cup at him.
– What did you say to me on Monday? “As if I can’t boil potatoes without you”?
– That was potatoes! This is meat!
– Oh, right. Meat obviously requires a college degree.
Mykola couldn’t help but smile.
– Halyna, don’t tease me.
– Alright, – his wife softened. – I’ll tell you. But you’re doing all the cooking yourself.
On Sunday at eleven, their daughter Oksana arrived, along with her husband Serhiy and their two grandchildren — six-year-old Mariyka and nine-year-old Denys.
– Grandma! – Mariyka rushed to hug Halyna’s neck. – Are we baking pastries today?
– Not today, sweetheart, today Grandpa is the head chef.
The little girl looked at Mykola in surprise.
– Grandpa, do you even know how?
– Of course! – he answered proudly.
Denys peeked into the kitchen.
– What’s that smell?
– The chicken is roasting!
– Why does it look so dark?
Mykola rushed to the oven. The chicken had certainly browned quite well — maybe a little too much on top.
– It’s no big deal! – he quickly reassured them. – We’ll just take off the crust.
In half an hour, everyone gathered around the table. On a big platter were roasted potatoes with chicken thighs. Next to it was a small plate of sliced pickles that Halyna had jarred back in the summer. There were store-bought cookies waiting to go with tea.
Oksana looked over the table.
«Dad, is mom sick or something?»
«Why would you think that?!»
«Well, you usually don’t even put the kettle on, and here we have a whole dinner!»
«I decided to show you how you can manage things economically!»
Serhiy smiled.
«And how’s it going so far?»
«Not bad!»
Just then, Maryika tasted a piece of the meat.
«Grandpa, can I have some water?»
«Of course, sunshine!»
«Because the chicken is salty.»
Mykola sighed.
Meanwhile, Denys asked:
«Is there any ketchup?»
«No, there isn’t.»
«What about sour cream?»
«Don’t have that either.»
«Could I at least have some bread?»
Mykola froze. He had forgotten to buy bread too. The kitchen went quiet. Then Serhiy couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing.
«Dad, you really outdid yourself! At least you saved the family budget!»
Oksana glanced at her mother. She was sitting calmly, with a barely noticeable smile.
«Mom, did you teach him this?»
«No, dear. He wanted to do it himself.»
Mykola stood up.
«Alright! No more jokes! Next time, I’ll get everything right!»
«Grandpa,» Maryika chimed in, «maybe next time Grandma should do the cooking?»
Everyone burst out laughing. Even Mykola.
After the kids left, he sat at the kitchen table for a long time. In front of him were receipts from the entire week. Halyna was washing the cups.
«Halia,» he finally said.
«What is it?»
«Do you really spend this much every week?»
«About that. Sometimes more, sometimes less.»
«And then there’s all the detergents, soap, cleaning supplies…»
«Of course.»
«How do you keep track of all of it?»
«I’m used to it. Thirty-four years of practice.»
Mykola stayed silent for a moment.
«Can you show me how you manage the budget?»
Halyna wiped her hands and pulled an old notebook in a blue cover from the drawer. Mykola had seen it before but never cared about what was written inside. Each page had neat entries: “Groceries.” “Utilities.” “Household expenses.” “Gifts for the kids.” “Unexpected expenses.” And at the end of each month – a little line: “Saved.”
Mykola started flipping through the pages.
«Halyna, what are these sums?»
«That’s savings.»
«What kind of savings?»
«Ours.»
«Wait a minute… Are you telling me you were putting money aside too?»
«What did you think?»
He looked at his wife.
«So where did we get the money for the fridge from?»
«From here.»
«And when the washing machine broke?»
«Also from here.»
«And when we helped Oksana with her repairs?»
«That was from here too.»
Mykola slowly closed the notebook. He stayed quiet for a few minutes.
«Halyna, why didn’t you ever tell me?»
His wife raised her eyebrows in surprise.
«I did. You just weren’t listening. Remember when I asked you not to spend your whole bonus on new tools? I wanted to save a little for a fridge.»
Mykola remembered. That was when he got offended that his wife was interfering with his spending.
«But you still managed to save up?»
«I did. Little by little.»
«And how much do you have set aside now?»
Halyna named the amount. Mykola straightened up in surprise.
«Are you serious?!»
«It’s nothing special. Not everything that’s left after payday needs to be spent right away.»
He rubbed his forehead.
«So Halyna, it turns out you don’t just manage the household, you even save up money?»
«What did you think, that I spent all the money on candy?»
Mykola lowered his eyes.
«I must be an idiot.»
«Not maybe,» Halyna said softly. «But not hopeless either.»
He chuckled quietly, then suddenly grew serious.
«Halyna, forgive me.»
His wife froze. In thirty-four years, Mykola hadn’t apologized often. Especially when it came to money.
«For what exactly?»
«For reproaching you. For those nine hundred hryvnias. And for everything else. I truly didn’t know how much everything costs now. I’d come home from work—dinner was ready, the fridge was full, my shirts were clean. I thought all of that just happened on its own.»
Halyna sat down across from him.
«Kolya, I don’t need you to earn every penny. And you don’t have to cook dinner every day either. I just want you to respect my work. Because I work too. And at home, my second shift begins.»
Mykola took her hand.
«Now I understand.»
«That’s good, then.»
They sat in silence for a little longer.
Then, suddenly, Mykola asked:
«Halyna, could you teach me how to cook that borscht properly?»
His wife burst out laughing.
«I can. Just don’t forget to buy sour cream.»
The next morning, as Halyna was getting ready for work, her husband placed an envelope in front of her.
«What’s this?»
«Money for groceries.»
«And what about your savings plan?»
«It ended last Saturday.»
«But you said you could last half a month on three thousand!»
«I did. But back then, I didn’t know people wanted to eat something besides pasta sometimes!»
Halyna laughed.
«So now I’m in charge of shopping again?»
«Yes. But with one condition.»
She squinted suspiciously.
«What kind of condition?»
«On Saturdays, we go shopping together. You pick, I carry the bags.»
Halyna raised her eyebrows.
«Well, that’s a change!»
«And one more thing…» Mykola scratched his head awkwardly. «Let me make dinner twice a week.»
«By yourself?»
«By myself.»
«And what are you going to cook?»
«Well… I’ve mastered pasta already.»
«And the second time?»
«Halyna, don’t expect miracles from me!»
A month passed. One Saturday evening, Mykola and Halyna were returning from the store. Mykola was carrying two heavy bags, while his wife strolled beside him with a small purse.
They ran into their neighbor Petro and his wife near the entrance.
«Wow, Mykola!» Petro exclaimed in surprise. «Are you working as your wife’s porter now?»
«I am,» Mykola replied seriously.
«And how much does she pay you?»
Mykola looked at Halyna and smiled.
«Petro, I’ve owed her for thirty-four years. I’m just starting to pay it back now.»
Everyone laughed. That evening, as Halyna was making dinner, Mykola went over to the sink and started washing the dishes himself.
«Kolya, what’s up?» his wife asked, surprised.
«I’m helping.»
«Is something wrong?»
«Nothing’s wrong. I just realized that you worked today too. Then you went shopping. And now you’re cooking dinner again.»
Halyna looked at her husband and didn’t say a word. She just smiled. And the next Sunday, the whole family gathered around the table again. This time, there was borscht, and cutlets, and pies that Halyna baked with Mariyka.
Mykola ceremoniously placed a plate of homemade cookies in front of his grandchildren.
«I baked these myself!»
Denys picked up a cookie skeptically.
«Grandpa, are they not salty?»
«Just eat, smarty pants!»
Mariyka took a bite, smiled and gave a big thumbs up.
«Delicious!»
Mykola beamed with pride.
Halyna quietly said to her daughter:
«See, Oksanka, you really can teach a man something new even after fifty.»
Mykola heard it.
«After fifty-nine, mind you!»
Everyone burst out laughing again. But the funniest thing happened a few days later.
Mykola came home from work to find Halyna watching TV, and announced indignantly:
«Halya, can you imagine?! Petro says his wife spent two thousand on groceries in just a week! And he’s giving her a hard time about it!»
Halyna slowly turned her head.
«And what did you say to him?»
Mykola straightened up proudly.
«I told him, ‘Petro, don’t embarrass yourself! Go to the store yourself at least once, then we’ll talk!'»
Halyna burst into such laughter she had tears in her eyes.
«Well, well! And who gave me a near-lecture about spending nine hundred hryvnias just a month ago?»
«That was a long time ago!» Mykola waved her off. «I was young and foolish back then!»
«A month ago?!»
«Halya, stop getting hung up on the little things!»
She came over, hugged him, and kissed him on the cheek.
«Alright, my economist. Go have dinner.»
Mykola happily sat down at the table.
«What’s for dinner tonight?»
«Pasta.»
He froze. Halyna couldn’t hold it any longer and burst out laughing.
«I’m kidding, Kolya! Stuffed cabbage rolls are in the oven!»
«That’s a relief,» he exhaled. «Because I’ve seen enough pasta to last me a lifetime!»
From then on, Mykola never scolded his wife for her shopping again. Although, sometimes, when he spotted a new receipt from the store, he still whistled in surprise.
But now, instead of the usual, ‘Why did you spend so much?!’ he asked something else entirely:
«Halya, next time I’ll go with you. Maybe we’ll find some deals?»
And every time, Halyna smiled.
Because after thirty-four years of marriage, she had learned one simple truth: you can explain something a hundred times to someone who doesn’t want to hear it. Or you can just let them try it once.
And then, even the biggest family economist finally finds out how much a simple homemade borshch really costs.
