Brand Loyalty

     My mother was a thrifty woman.  That's means she had no loyalty to name brands.  Store brands are just as good was her motto.  Mom was critical of the way her mother-in-law, my grandmother, catered to my young uncle, the last bird in the in-law nest.  Among other things, Uncle Bob wanted nothing but Wonder Bread used in the making of his sandwiches.  We had our peanut butter and jelly on a no name shingle.
     When I had to buy my own food, I appreciated the Mom's wise counsel.  Store brands offered significant savings.  Until I married Mike, I only had one mouth to feed, so I didn't have to be as frugal as my mother.  Still, I bought my food on sale, purchasing extra to hold in the freezer until the next sale cycle rolled around.  I treated myself to some name brands because they really tasted better to me, but not before I gave the store brands a try.  Most of the time the generics won with my taste buds.  I was also happy with anybody's laundry detergent and anybody's facial tissue.
     As I said, enter Mike, who, I swear, was born with a silver spoon (loaded with real Kellog's Corn Flakes) in his mouth.  Suddenly, name brands abounded in our refrigerator and pantry and linen closet.  Jif is the only peanut butter worth eating and Pop Secret is the only microwave popcorn worth popping according to Mike.  Cotton swabs must be Q-tips and not some CVS version of Q-tips.  Yet vodka is all the same.  Now, if I was any kind of a snob, I was a booze snob.  No more Absolut for me.  I can take the $1.39 I save there and apply it to the corn flakes.
     During the thirty years of singlehood between husbands, I swore I would never remarry unless doing so enhanced my existence.  Life with Mike is an upgrade from previously living with just a small pooch.  Mike is a most excellent dinner partner, he doesn't mind doing most of the driving, and he really likes to mow the lawn.  I Can't Believe It's Not Butter aside, Mike's most charming attachment is to the Beverly brand.  Each time he comes home with Canada Dry Diet Ginger Ale and Cheetos instead of cheese curls, I know my existence has been enhanced.