"Off With You for a Dip in the Sea!"

After plotting with my husband for some time, I finally got a study at the price of our son's own bedroom.

Now our son's little bed lies diagonal to ours. Here we all share in the discussion of family and state affairs, and our son has shown a marked instinct for leadership.

There are five bookcases in my body. As I knew little about prices and didn't want to bother others, I just purchased the first bookcases I happened upon. Soon the paint came off and the boards became warped. White ants stationed inside were indestructible, like spring breeze and wild grass. My various certificates of merit, exquisite albums, and gifts of books and pictures were all raided by them.

Gradually, the bookcases wore out and our son grew up. Problems arose but I managed somehow or other.
Our two old rattan chairs had been mended again and again with wires and were covered with two cushions. They finally announced their full retirement. My husband, ostensibly driven by his love of antiques, searched high and low for rattan chairs. Either due to lack of materials or perhaps overcome by prevailing fashions, rattan chairs have been replaced by plastic ones. I refused to have them and suggested we buy a pair of leather chairs with tall backs to support our failing backs.

Then my husband and I argued over whether we should spend 50 yuan for a pair of "mock rattan chairs" or get two revolving leather chairs. Neither was ready to yield. When a visiting Japanese friend heard about it he offered to give us a pair of leather chairs. Very red in the face, I loudly declined. This provoked my husband's sense of dignity. The next day he crossed the sea to Xiamen and carried back two leather chairs. This time he was smarter; he had learned to bargain and saved 2.5 yuan on each of the chairs!

Installed in our leather chairs, we felt luxurious and presentable. We decided to continue exerting ourselves. When we saw the announcement of a "sale" of Stone Corporation products at Holiday Inn, my husband's appetite for computers was awakened.

Most of our colleagues have bought computers. I am usually economical with Chinese characters. I write short poems and short essays. So far, my longest piece of writing was just a little over six thousand characters. Usually, whenever a piece exceeded three thousand words, I would slash my texts, and I didn't care about its cries of pain. So for me the computer was not an urgent need. But my husband's profession is teaching. He has to write course plans and many, many papers. He does research in theory. It's such hard work for him, copying out index cards and collecting material. Any essay he writes reaches ten thousand words for sure, and the books he produces always have at least three hundred thousand words. His desire for computer was several times greater than that for a wife, before we were married. So between us two writing animals, we decided to get one computer. Even with my bad math, I could make out the savings.

We were ready to give it a try.

Inside Holiday Inn, about twenty computers were set up around the walls. People trying the machines were all in western suits and leather shoes looking slick and shiny, spewing computer jargon. The two of us, in our shabby clothes, were like flies buzzing around aimlessly. My husband did not even recognize a cashier register when he saw one. We were pushed away as soon as we got close to a computer. Just as we were totally confused, a "fairy godmother" came to our rescue.

It was Miss Guo Qian who worked in the Fujian Office of Stone Corporation. She was a college graduate of the Chinese language department and recognized me. With great enthusiasm, she introduced the products to us one by one. After helping us select a model, she took us to see the manager of the Xiamen Sales Department. Miss Guo was from Wuxi. We hardly knew each other, yet she had not only recognized me but went out of her way to help us. Not so that manager. From the same hometown as I, nevertheless he remained expressionless when told "We must give the lowest preferential price to Shu Ting."

And the lowest price amounted to ten thousand yuan!

In the following days computers became the hot topic of conversation over dinner and before bedtime. Our intense discussion and plotting were concentrated on how we could reduce our expenses for a year in order to get a computer. Our eleven-yuan-old son was best equipped with the zeitgeist. Clapping his hands, he said, "That's wonderful! I'm going to design programs myself!"

"Certainly you are," my husband responded seizing the opportunity to impact a sense of thrift. "You already have ten boxes of game card. You don't need to buy any more. And it's really not necessary to always wear name brand sneakers. As to going to hair salons…"

Our son glared at us like a Buddhist warrior attendant, stamping on the bed and raising such a racket that several bookcases in the next room burst open.

"Off with you for a dip in the sea!' he ordered.

Everything has its price. Some time ago we took away our son's bedroom with the result that now, every future decision regarding the family is checked by his vote. Come to think of it, if we were really going to buy a computer, we would have to sacrifice our son's right to recreation and my husband's addiction to buying books—he has already cut out cigarettes and wine; his only remaining personal expense is a monthly visit to the barber. Well, without even thinking any further about that "dip in the sea" of commerce, I already feel dazed.

Forget it—the computer!