With the help of colorful advertising, manufacturers manage to sell us absolutely useless things. We diligently search for these items on the supermarket shelves, spend a lot of money on them, recommend them to our friends and family, and then we are disappointed to find out that they are totally useless. Or that they work quite well, but are very overpriced.
Women’s antiperspirants
Ads that claim that the formulas of men’s and women’s antiperspirants are significantly different are, to put it mildly, misleading. In fact, companies use only different aromas in the manufacture of these products, but the chemical compounds that neutralize the smell of sweat in all antiperspirants are almost the same. It makes no sense to buy an antiperspirant that is designed specifically for women.
Dietary supplements
Many people take dietary supplements to boost their immune system and improve their health. But in fact, if a person has a healthy diet, they don’t need any additional supplements.
According to doctors, these supplements are not harmful, but their benefits are also questionable. These supplements can’t replace a healthy diet anyway.
Ionic air purifiers
© Ben Baligad / Flickr, © CC BY 2.0 DEED
Ionic air purifiers that are not equipped with filters are not only ineffective, but can also be dangerous to your health. These devices are supposed to capture tiny particles with negatively charged ions, but in return they release small amounts of ozone that can be harmful to breathe in. It’s best to just buy an air purifier with replaceable filters.
Drain cleaners
Drain cleaners are designed to clear clogs, but they actually do more harm than good. The hydrochloric acid in these products can dissolve not only grease and dirt, but also the pipes themselves. In addition, it can ruin your enamel and other bathroom finishes.
And if a blockage is caused by a dense material that has accidentally fallen into the sewerage system, these cleaners will be totally useless. It’s best to get a plunger and a snake, which are more effective.
Screen cleaners for electronics
These cleaners work well, but they are also quite costly. According to experts, you can also use plain water to clean monitors and screens. A microfiber cloth soaked in it cleans surfaces as effectively as a special product.
Woven hampers and laundry baskets
© Michael Coghlan / Flickr, © CC BY-SA 2.0 DEED, © Emily May / Flickr, © CC BY 2.0 DEED
These items look cute, but they are not very convenient to use. If you put too much laundry into the basket, it can become misshapen. In addition, laundry often clings to protruding branches and twigs, so a basket can also ruin your clothes. It’s more sensible to buy a hamper made of dense fabric that can be collapsed when it’s not in use.
Large containers of spices and condiments
Buying spices in large jars seems like a great idea if you want to save the family budget. But spices have a limited shelf life, and we rarely use them in large quantities. So, it’s likely they’ll degrade before you finish them. So, it’s best to buy spices in small containers.
Veggie puffs, rice crackers and other «healthy» chip substitutes
© Kate Hopkins / Flickr, © CC BY 2.0 DEED
All these snacks seem to be a great alternative to chips because they are supposed to be healthy. In reality, however, these snacks contain various additives and oils. Plus, they’re usually high in calories and lack nutrients. It’s better to make carrot sticks or freeze grapes. Such snacks are cheaper and healthier.
Heat protective shampoos
According to some experts, buying shampoos and conditioners with heat protection is a waste of money. They won’t harm your hair, but there are few benefits either. It’s better to buy a heat protective spray, which really helps to protect your curls from the effects of high temperatures.
Buying a moisturizing shampoo can also be a pointless waste of money. The substances used in these products weigh down the strands, so that the hair becomes greasy faster. So, you end up having to wash your hair more often.
Sheet masks
Sheet masks have gained unprecedented popularity. Some women note that the skin really looks better after using them. But in fact, the effect of using masks is temporary, while they cost a lot. At the same time, masks have the same effect as moisturizers and lotions, so it’s financially unreasonable to spend a lot of money on them.
Moisturizers
Excessive use of them not only doesn’t help, but in some cases can even harm your skin. Dermatologists claim that too frequent use of moisturizers can make it difficult to exfoliate dead skin cells, change your skin’s natural balance of water, and slow down the natural production of lipids and proteins. If your skin seems dry, you need to consume enough fluids.
In addition, there is no point of paying more for moisturizers that contain vitamins. Usually, the amount of these substances is too small to somehow affect the condition of the skin. But even if there are a lot of them in the composition, this is also not a plus — vitamins tend to quickly disintegrate under the influence of sunlight and oxygen.
Feminine hygiene products
The delicate parts of a woman’s body don’t need special cosmetic products. Moreover, gels with aromatic additives can break the natural barrier that protects the body from bacteria and infections, and can also cause irritation.
It’s optimal to use plain water for hygiene procedures. Or you can use soap for sensitive skin without any additives and fragrances.
And here is the list of useful items that can make your everyday life so much easier.
My parents forced me to pay for my own dinner while they covered the bill for everyone else – Their justification was absurd
Jennifer’s parents caught her off guard during a family dinner by unexpectedly asking her to cover the cost of her meal, while they paid for everyone else. Jennifer’s resentment brews as the sting of unfairness deepens, setting the stage for a confrontation the family won’t forget.
The night I got the text from Mom about a “special family dinner,” I nearly choked on my microwaved ramen. It had been ages since we’d all gotten together, and even longer since it felt like my parents actually wanted me there.
love my family, but being the middle child is like being the bologna in a sandwich where everyone’s fighting over the bread.
I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to make up some lame excuse, but then I thought about Tina and Cameron, my perfect older sister and my can-do-no-wrong little brother.
They’d be there, basking in Mom and Dad’s approval, like always. And I’d remain the perpetual afterthought if I didn’t show up.
“Count me in,” I typed, hitting send before I could change my mind.
Mom replied instantly. “Great! Le Petit Château, 7 p.m. next Friday. Don’t be late!”
Le Petit Château. Fancy. I whistled low, already mentally tallying up my savings. This wasn’t going to be cheap, but hey, maybe it was a sign things were changing. Maybe they actually wanted to spend time with me, Jennifer the Forgettable.
That Friday, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, feeling nervous. Just as I was about to go in, Mom and Dad showed up. Mom was all smiles, while Dad wore his usual concerned expression.
Inside, we found a cozy table, and soon after, Tina and Robert joined us. Tina looked stunning, as always, making me feel like a potato by comparison. Finally, Cameron arrived, late as usual, and complaining about traffic.
Now we were all settled, Mom wasted no time in making me feel insignificant.
“So, Jennifer,” Mom said, peering at me over her menu, “how’s work going? Still at that little marketing firm?”
I nodded, trying not to bristle at the ‘little’ part. “Yeah, it’s good. We just landed a pretty big client, actually. I’m heading up the campaign.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom said, her attention already drifting back to Tina, who was regaling Dad with tales of her son’s latest soccer game.
That stung, but the atmosphere improved while we ate. The food was great, and soon we were talking and laughing like we used to when I was a kid.
I was enjoying the meal and the rare feeling of being part of the family, but then the check came.
Dad reached for it and started going over the bill, like he always did. But then he frowned, looking directly at me.
“Jennifer,” he said, his voice oddly formal, “you’ll be covering your portion tonight.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“You’re an adult now,” he continued, as if explaining something to a child. “It’s time you start paying your own way.”
“But…” I started, my voice small, “I thought this was a family dinner. You’re paying for everyone else.”
Dad’s frown deepened. “Your sister and brother have families to support. You’re single, so it’s only fair.”
Fair. The word echoed in my head, mocking me. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Without a word, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the waiter, praying it wouldn’t get declined.
The rest of the night was a blur. As I drove home, the hurt began to curdle into something else. Something harder, angrier.
The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a heart full of resentment. I spent the day alternating between moping on the couch and pacing my apartment like a caged animal. By evening, something inside me had shifted.
I wasn’t just going to let this go. Not this time.
An idea started to form. Crazy at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I was going to give them a taste of their own medicine.
I invited Mom and Dad over for dinner and then spent days perfecting the menu. I cleaned my apartment until it sparkled, bought fancy candles, and even splurged on a tablecloth that didn’t come from the dollar store.
The night of the dinner arrived, and I was eerily calm. I had a plan, and I was sticking to it.
The doorbell rang at 7 p.m. sharp. I took a deep breath and opened the door with a smile plastered on my face.
“Mom, Dad! Come in!”
Dad handed me a bottle of wine. “Place looks nice, Jennifer.”
“Thanks,” I said, ushering them to the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
As I poured their wine, Mom settled onto the couch, her eyes roaming over my bookshelf. “So, how have you been, dear? We haven’t heard much from you since… well, since our last dinner.”
I forced a light laugh. “Oh, you know how it is. Work’s been crazy busy.”
We made small talk for a while, the conversation stilted and full of long pauses. Finally, the oven timer beeped, saving us all.
“Dinner’s ready!” I announced, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
I’d outdone myself with the meal: herb-crusted salmon, roasted vegetables, and a quinoa salad that had taken forever to get right. Mom and Dad made appropriate noises of appreciation as they ate.
“This is delicious, Jennifer,” Mom said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
I shrugged, tamping down the flare of resentment at her surprise. “I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”
The dinner progressed smoothly, almost pleasantly. I almost forgot why I’d invited them over in the first place. Then Dad started with one of his lectures about financial responsibility, and I knew it was time.
As I cleared the plates and brought out a fancy tiramisu for dessert, I steeled myself. This was it.
“So,” I said casually, setting down the dessert plates, “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
They both nodded, smiling. “It was wonderful, dear,” Mom said.
I smiled back, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Great. That’ll be $47.50 each, please.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Mom’s fork clattered against her plate, and Dad’s face went through a rapid series of emotions – confusion, disbelief, and then anger.
“I’m sorry, what?” he sputtered.
I kept my voice calm, channeling Dad’s tone from that night at the restaurant. “Well, you’re both adults. It’s time you started paying your own way.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “But… but this is your home. You invited us.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice hardening slightly. “Just like you invited me to Le Petit Château. And then made me pay for my meal while covering everyone else’s.”
Understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by shame.
“Jennifer,” Dad started, his voice gruff. “That’s not… we didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what?” I interrupted, years of pent-up frustration finally boiling over.
“Didn’t mean to make me feel like I’m worth less than Tina or Cameron? Didn’t mean to constantly overlook me? Or did you just not mean to get called out on it?”
Mom reached out, trying to take my hand, but I pulled away. “Sweetie, we had no idea you felt this way.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you didn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to always be the afterthought in your own family?”
Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“We love you just as much as your siblings, Jennifer.”
“Do you?” I challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as successful as Tina, just as hardworking as Cameron. But somehow, I’m always the one who’s expected to ‘act like an adult’ while they get a free pass.”
The room fell silent again, but this time it was heavy with unspoken words and long-ignored feelings.
Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We… we owe you an apology, Jennifer. A big one.”
Mom nodded, tears in her eyes. “We never meant to make you feel less valued. You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ve just… we’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”
I felt my own eyes welling up, but I blinked back the tears. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to do better. To be better. To see me.”
Dad stood up, his movements stiff. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
Instead, he walked around the table and hugged me. It was awkward and a little too tight, but it was more genuine than any interaction we’d had in years.
“We see you, Jennifer,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And we’re so, so proud of you. We’ve been blind and stupid, and we’ve taken you for granted. But that ends now.”
Mom joined the hug, and for a minute, we just stood there, a tangle of arms and unshed tears and long-overdue honesty.
When we finally broke apart, Mom wiped her eyes and gave a watery chuckle. “So, about that bill…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell you what. This one’s on the house. But next time we go out? We’re splitting the check evenly. All of us.”
Dad nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
As they left that night, things weren’t magically fixed. Years of feeling overlooked and undervalued don’t disappear in one conversation. But it was a start. A crack in the wall I’d built around myself, letting in a glimmer of hope.
Leave a Reply