You ever notice how certain habits from childhood stick with you like superglue?

I’m 67 years old now, and despite decades of comfortable living, there are still things that feel oddly extravagant to me. Things that my upper-middle-class friends have always done without a second thought.

Growing up as one of five kids in a working-class family in Ohio, you learn to see the world differently. My father pulled double shifts at the factory while my mother performed financial miracles with our grocery budget. We weren’t ‘poor’, but we were always aware of every dollar.

Here’s the thing – these experiences shape you in ways you don’t fully realize until years later. Even now, after a successful career and comfortable retirement, I catch myself hesitating before doing things that shouldn’t feel like luxuries anymore. But they do.

1. Throwing away food that’s slightly past its prime

My wife laughs at me for this one, but I can’t help it. That yogurt that expired yesterday? It’s probably fine. The bread with one tiny spot of mold? Just cut around it. Growing up, wasting food was practically a sin in our house.

I remember my mother could make a single chicken feed our family of seven for three meals – roasted on Sunday, sandwiches on Monday, and soup by Tuesday. Nothing went to waste. Even now, I inspect leftovers like a detective examining evidence. “Still good,” I’ll announce, while my wife shakes her head and reaches for the trash can.

2. Turning up the heat instead of putting on another sweater

Every winter, it’s the same internal battle. The thermostat might as well have dollar signs on it. Growing up, we kept the house at 62 degrees, and if you were cold, you knew where the sweaters were.

I still remember my father’s favorite phrase: “We’re not heating the whole neighborhood!” Now I catch myself saying the same thing, even though our heating bill isn’t going to break us. Old habits die hard, especially when they were drilled into you before you were ten.

3. Buying name-brand anything when there’s a generic option

Why would anyone pay extra for a fancy label when the store brand works just as well? This mindset helped me catch up on retirement savings after starting late, and I’m not about to change now.

My kids roll their eyes when I proudly show them how much I saved buying generic cereal. “Dad, it’s a dollar difference,” they’ll say. But that dollar difference adds up. It always has, and in my mind, it always will.

4. Going out to eat when there’s food at home

Restaurants were for birthdays and anniversaries when I was growing up. Maybe the occasional Sunday after church if dad had worked overtime that week. The idea of eating out just because you don’t feel like cooking? That was rich people behavior.

I raised my own three kids with the same principle. Sure, we loosened up a bit as they got older and our finances improved, but that initial hesitation never left me. Even now, when my wife suggests going out, my first thought is always about the leftovers in the fridge.

5. Hiring someone to fix something I could probably figure out myself

YouTube University has saved me thousands of dollars over the years. Leaky faucet? There’s a video for that. Weird noise in the dryer? Let me grab my tools.

After my knee surgery at 61, I had to learn to ask for help, which nearly killed me. But calling a repairman for something I could potentially fix myself still feels like admitting defeat. My wife calls it stubborn. I call it resourceful.

6. Buying new clothes when the old ones still have life in them

That shirt with the tiny hole near the hem? Still perfectly wearable. Those jeans that are a bit faded? They’re just broken in. Growing up, you got new clothes twice a year – back to school and Easter. Everything else better last.

I’ve got sweaters older than my youngest kid. They’re not threadbare; they’re “comfortable.” There’s a difference, and anyone from a working-class background knows exactly what I mean.

7. Taking a taxi or Uber when you could walk or take the bus

These ride-sharing apps completely baffle me with their casual approach to spending. Twenty dollars to go five miles? When I was younger, that was grocery money for two days.

Even with creaky knees that remind me daily that I’m not 30 anymore, I still hesitate before calling a cab. The bus might take longer, but it’s a quarter of the price. My body might protest the walk to the bus stop, but my working-class conscience protests the taxi fare even more.

Final thoughts

Here’s what I’ve learned – these habits aren’t necessarily bad. That financial discipline helped us weather unemployment scares, put three kids through college, and build a retirement fund that lets us spoil our five grandchildren (within reason, of course).

The funny thing is watching my kids navigate the world without these same hesitations. They’ll order takeout on a random Tuesday or buy the name-brand pasta sauce without checking the price. Good for them. They grew up in a different world than I did, and that was partly the point of all our sacrifices.

But sometimes I wonder if they’re missing something too. There’s a certain satisfaction in fixing your own leaky faucet, a pride in making a meal stretch, a groundedness that comes from knowing the value of a dollar because you’ve seen what happens when there aren’t enough of them.