Amuse bouche... Flexi budget

‘I ’m coming to Pilates with you,” said Emma to her mother, Sorcha.

“Again?” said Sorcha. “Yeah,” Emma replied. “Am I not allowed or something?”

Sorcha took a breath, counted to five and came back to her 19-year-old with a different approach.

“That’s great. We can go for coffee after,” said Sorcha, encouragingly.

“Yeah, fine, but you’ll have to pay, I’m broke after buying the Christmas bundle of Pilates classes,” Emma said. “And I need to keep anything left over for cocktails. I worked it out. I did a spreadsheet.”

Sorcha took another breath and held it this time, because she was trying not to laugh. Emma was never on a budget. On the scrounge, yes, despite all the allowance she got, but not on a budget.

And she never held herself back from buying coffee, despite the fantastic machine they had at home.

Emma had adopted Pilates classes to get in shape for Christmas. She seemed to imagine it was a sensible use of her limited funds.

Emma had seen a notification on Sorcha’s phone from the Pilates place about a special on pre-Christmas classes and she had bought them.

Sorcha didn’t bother asking why Emma had been looking at her phone. So far, adolescence had been a long seven years of Emma believing anything of Sorcha’s was hers, but not vice versa.

“I’ve done the sums for the last few weeks,” said Emma. “And with dry November, and no buying coffee, the Pilates totally balanced out my budget.”

“Balanced out, maybe,” said Sorcha. “But you could have got fit by running for nothing. Then you’d have money over, and could afford to buy me coffee after Pilates. And how are you affording Christmas? You know you have to buy stuff for other people, too?”

“Oh, Mum,” said Emma in her irritating, you-adorable-dinosaur tone. “It’s December now! That was my November money. I have more now.”

“Anyway,” Emma continued, “you should be glad I’m getting fit and being sensible. You’re the one always nagging me about how I shouldn’t be eating out and buying lattes. You should be proud of me.”

“I am,” said Sorcha, half in awe of how Emma was oblivious to the fact that it was all ultimately her parents’ money anyway. She was looking forward to Pilates on her own again in the new year.

“And I’ve seen this amazing dress that I might be able to afford, too,” Emma said, enthusiastically. “I’ll show it to you when you bring us for coffee. You’ll love it!”

I’ll pay for it, more like it, thought Sorcha.