Say It Loud, Say It Proud..."I Use Coupons!"

But I don't use them to the extreme.

Seems these days, the following scenario happens:

You go to your favorite stop to purchase a Sunday paper... make it two. Because you want one to read, the other to empty the vacuum cleaner dirt and you want that $1 off bacon coupon, times 2! But...

Whaddya mean, they're sold out?

Or this scenario, if you're lucky to have gotten your two, four, 20, 50 papers full of that great $1 off bacon coupon...

Whaddya mean, bacon's sold out?

It's been happening more and more frequently this past month. On a popular coupon site, me and at least two others have posted our dismay at not being able to get our Sunday papers. Back last month, I joked that it was because of the expected end of the world, so they figured, why bother? Turns out I was wrong.

This week more people have posted the same thing—and there's no rapture coming now, at least until October, last I heard.

Thanks to TLC's show “Extreme Couponing,” people have been buying out the Sunday paper like crazy for the coupons. My personal paper seller told me herself, "Papers been selling like hotcakes."

Now, this is good—for her. Not so much for me, wanting my two little papers.

I've used coupons for yearrrrrsss...yes, that long. Not as effectively as I do now, learning from coupon sites how to stack, and line them up with a sale, and print print print.

But I don't have a stockpile in my basement/garage/bonus room of pasta and deodorant in case we're hit by the zombie apocalypse and have to hunker down at home. 

Now, I do confess... me and my family are clean. We do smell good. I have about seven bottles of various brands of body washes, and the same for shampoos (mostly mine, since I have the hair around here), deodorants, etc. Hey...I have teen boys! And I am a girly girl. My husband? Meh...

We do have a few jars of spaghetti sauce. Let me count...eight. Eight jars of Publix brand, Ragu, and Barilla combined.

This does not a hoarder make.

When I watch “Extreme Couponing” on television, and I see someone upend a basket of deodorant into their cart and then lug it home to store in the spare bedroom, I don't feel anger or cheated that I didn't get my share.

Well, okay, maybe a little cheated if I didn't get my Secret Shower Fresh Invisible Anti-Perspirant...I'll be honest here—I do have two coupons!

But I feel pity. Pity because...

I've been there. I've been that person, so afraid that the car will fail to start, that the water won't flow when I turn on the faucet, that the landlord will call about the rent again, or that the job will come to an end. And there we'll be, stinky without our Secret and Old Spice. I've hoarded toilet paper and paper towels under the beds, under the sinks, in every closet, even under the sofa...because, hey—it won't go bad, and the phonebook is going the way of the Sears catalog. (You gotta be old enough to get that one!) I've bought more than I should of Raisin Bran, Corn Flakes, and whole grain spaghetti noodles, because I've been hungry before, and I never want my own children to feel that same way.

But all it got me was dried up deodorant that was unusable, and pantry moths and sugar ants. All the money I thought I'd saved went to my friendly pest control service and more deodorant. The waste that went into the garbage can!

The money that went into the garbage can....

But, no judging. There is a “coupon high” you feel when you get to “stick it to the man,” right? I mean, hey! Free is free.

Just learn from my mistakes. If you're using hoarded toilet paper to push the monsters out from under your kid's bed, well... T.P. won't go bad. But deodorants, believe it or not, do. And all those toaster pastries... do you really want all that sugar in your family's bodies? If it's not healthy, if it's not usable, donate it. 

Helping Hands.

The church food pantries in Hiram and Dallas.

I've even given extra deodorant to the high school.

There's a lot of stinky, hungry people out there who can't afford to buy that stuff, much less a Sunday paper. So if you've got A LOT extra—like a zombie apocalypse's worth—share the love.

Donate some spaghetti noodles.