Letting My Mother Budget My Salary For A Month

Growing up in an Asian household meant you knew one thing for sure: there always is a budget and you always stick to it. Your great grand-aunt’s 90th birthday? Fantastic — but what’s the budget for her gift? Or maybe you need to shop for a new pair of socks. Of course — wouldn’t want you running around with holes in your socks, but, the question still stands: what’s the budget?

 In an Asian household budgeting isn’t just a habit or a skill. It’s a legacy that’s passed down from generation to generation. When  times were tough and money was tight, our parents (and their parents before that) had to rely on prudent budgeting to make ends meet. This deep rooted instinct to save, ration and plan came with its own tagline: “Don’t need, we have it at home.”

Now that brings us to our latest money experiment. After letting AI (somewhat unsuccessfully) budget my salary in the last round, we decided to try something far more terrifying. Letting my mother budget my salary for a month.  Shudders. 

I handed over my salary and expenses and almost immediately regretted it. Not because I didn’t trust her to be able to stretch every last Sen, but because I was absolutely terrified of her finding out exactly how I spent my money. (Editor’s note: another fun culture in an Asian household, is that you’re never too old for a good spanking). 

But there was no turning back now. She was in full control — and ready to audit my life, one questionable expense at a time.

Here’s how it went.

Step 1: The breakdown

As I did with ChatGPT, I had to give my mom the lo-down. Here’s the recap for those of you that missed it: “I earn RM3,800 per month, which is the median salary in Kuala Lumpur. I need a realistic budget breakdown based on best practices. My fixed expenses are: rent & utilities (RM850), e-hailing rides (RM450). My variable expenses include: groceries, eating out, entertainment & shopping (RM2200)” 

In theory, that leaves me with RM300 for savings. But in reality? There is always some miscellaneous expense that comes up making even that small sum, vanish. When I told my mom I wanted her help to better manage my salary so I actually have savings, she didn’t even blink. She immediately pulled out a pen and a paper (seemingly from thin air) and said with an eerie glint in her eyes “You’re spending too much money on unnecessary things, I can fix that.” Shudders. 

Step 2: Mother knows best

Unlike ChatGPT that gave me a detailed breakdown on where to cut spending, my mothers approach was…different to say the least. She didn’t rely on any formulas such as the 50/30/20 method or any financial theories. Instead, she relied on her instincts that came from years of stretching money to cover everything from mortgages, utility bills, school fees, groceries and still have enough left over to sponsor our annual family trips. 

Here is her revised plan: 

Rent & utilities: RM850. Unchanged because I still need a roof above my head and she is happy to have me out of the house. Win-win?)

Transport: RM50. A  RM400 slash from my original budget. Her exact words were: Why so expensive? You think we print money? Get the MY50 unlimited travel plan.) 

Now this is where it started getting real. Real scary that is. I had casually lumped RM2,200 under “variable expenses,” thinking it was a fair ballpark for groceries, eating out, entertainment, and the occasional splurge. My mother, however, looked at that figure like it personally insulted her ancestors. She grabbed her pen (still no idea where it came from) and went straight into fight mode. 

Groceries: RM 400. She went on for nearly an hour about how cheap it is to meal-prep and make my lunches at home but the summary of it was to buy no more than two types of protein and three types of vegetables per week to ensure nothing was being wasted. In this hour-long rant she mentioned the word tofu a million times. Apparently it’s cheap, healthy, filling and practically the cure to cancer (do NOT quote me on that). Time to look up “100 ways to cook with tofu”.  

Eating out: RM200. She was sure to point out how these were only for real emergencies — like rushing to work and missing breakfast, which according to her should never happen because breakfast is the most important meal of the day. So yay, I guess I can still get the occasional coffee and sandwich from the kopitiam.

Entertainment and shopping: RM 0. Once again, her exact words were: “What entertainment? YouTube is free, watch that.” As for shopping she took one look at my closet and claimed I was fully stocked for the next five years already. Basically, if it wasn’t a necessity, it wasn’t making the cut. Fun? Never heard of her. 

Investments: RM300. Just when I thought we were done, she hit me with a new category altogether. Something I vaguely heard about when I first started working , but ultimately shoved to the back of my head. Money needs to be invested monthly, she said. No matter how big or small a sum. There was no negotiating this. Interestingly, this was something ChatGPT didn’t account for in its breakdown. While AI focused on cutting expenses and managing what I already had, my mom went a step further — ensuring I was also planting seeds to grow it.

The final verdict: ChatGPT vs MumGPT

At the end of it all, I had two very different budgets in my hands  —  one calculated by a high-tech AI model, trained on endless data sets, and the other scribbled in half an hour by a woman powered solely by gut instinct, life experience, and a burning need to prove that I spend too much money.

Here’s the TL;DR:

• ChatGPT’s budget felt like a practical guide: structured, balanced, and rooted in financial logic. It gave me space for leisure, small indulgences, and even some breathing room. But it made the mistake of assuming I had discipline. (I don’t.)
• My mothers budget? Ruthless. Efficient. Slightly traumatic. But also — lowkey brilliant. She cut the fat, boosted my savings, threw in a compulsory investment plan, and somehow still allowed for the occasional kopi and sandwich. 

So who wins? Honestly… MumGPT might have the upper hand here. Not because she’s smarter than AI (though don’t ever tell her that), but because she knows me — my habits, my weaknesses, my closet full of impulse buys  — and she used that knowledge to build a budget that doesn’t just work on paper, but actually holds me accountable. But what truly takes the cake is the fact that with my mothers budget I actually have a fixed amount of money to set aside for investments. Unlike ChatGPT that lives in the cloud somewhere, my mother lives ten minutes away and will do an occasional spot check to make sure I stick to the plan and cook at home. This isn’t just a budget. It’s a surveillance system with built-in guilt trips and surprise audits.

So yes — as terrifying as it is to say this: MumGPT wins this round. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go YouTube how to make five different meals with tofu. Again.