GOOD MORNING, KIDS!!!
It's a beautiful breezy morning here, and I am sitting on my patio watching my palm tree blow in the breeze as I talk to you. (No...I don't live in Florida. Get real. I'm in pitiful Missouri, and the palm tree is in a pot. Let's just be honest, I'm pretending I'm on a beach somewhere!)
The week has been filled with ups and downs, as I'm sure yours has too. My kids are crazy, cracked out on summer and getting directly into the groove of driving each other flipping crazy. They remind me of that commercial where the little brother holds his finger out right next to his sister, so close you could barely slide a piece of paper between her arm and his fingertip, while announcing "I'm not touching you....."
Yep, that's been my house. I tried to just buzz thru the grocery store to grab a couple of things yesterday. Seriously, just a couple. It was like taking a dog into the store and expecting it NOT to sniff every stranger's butt as you passed. I swear to you I think my two kids multiplied to about 10 as we entered, and each of those ten turned into octopusses with their long gangly arms touching everything as we all but jogged through the aisles.
"Ooooh, what's this? Can we get it? What is it though? And can we get it? What did you say it is again? A bag of scewers? Oh, can we get them? What are they for? I could use them to build something. Can we get them?"
It's heck having a kid that is genetically related to MacGuyver, I swear to you. He is always fabricating a device out of something, and mysteriously, the grocery store ALWAYS has EXACTLY what he has secretly needed to complete his mission. Perhaps he is on a government contract and is unable to divulge such details to me because they have my house wired. That would make it more worthwhile to take him to the store. He is 5...I would HAVE to know if he had a bank account opened for direct deposit from the President, right?
Speaking of accounts...Oy! My 10 year old daughter decided that, while I stood ATTEMPTING to talk to the teller at the bank, actually IN the bank (which I hardly ever do), it would be a great time to express to me her strong and overwhelming desire to open a savings account. To which, she adds, that daddy concurs that it is a brilliant idea. I gave her the "Girl, you must have smoked crack when I wasn't looking" look, and told her it takes WAY too long, I am lacking the patience for such an escapade, and then followed that up with the "Back up off of my before someone gets hurt" look. You know, just for clarification of my intent.
She then proceeded to ask the teller how long it would take to open an account, and the teller hangs me with an invisible noose by responding, "Oh, probably 5 minutes." Fabulous. All the while, my 5 year old apparently is not only part octopus, but is also part tree-climbing monkey who is dying for me to lift him up so that he can see what the drive-thru looks like from the inside of the bank. To distract them, I sent them over to the area (right next to me, relax) where the safe-deposit boxes are. They examined the big vault door, all the tiny shiny silver boxes that lined the walls, and wondered why in the world there was a glass door between them and that world of intrigue and wonder. It bought me enough time to finish my transaction so we could bust out of that joint.
WHY did she want a bank account you ask? Because she didn't like having so much change in her piggy bank. Uh huh, you read that right. LOL, the rationale of kids. She said, "If I take it to the bank, it will be turned into cash. Then I won't have so much change. I hate change. And I don't want to have to roll it."
OMG. I tried not to laugh. So, guess what we ended up doing the next morning? Uh huh. I was confronted with a 3' tall purple crayon bank, which weighed about 20 lbs I swear..and girlfriend thought I was gonna walk up in the bank carrying said enormous purple crayon....and get her a savings account!
I transferred the miscellaneous pennies and dimes into a shopping bag, which wasn't much better because I probably looked like a bag lady, but at least it wasn't a giant crayon. We dumped the change into the machine in the bank lobby and you would have thought we were at the carnival. Those two kids watched that machine like an episode of Scooby Doo, counting along with it as it displayed her balance.
After what seemed like an hour, it was done counting her 3700 pennies, and we went to the teller to cash it out. Pretty painless so far. Until we got to the personal banker to actually open the account. I had planned on using a lady that I knew, but she was on vacation. I would up with someone I had never met, who proceeded to try to sell me her car in the parking lot, a lottery ticket from the depths of her wallet, and a stick of gum that had been washed in her jeans pocket. Or at least that's how it felt.
Apparently she couldn't pick up on the sense of urgency I was sending her telepathically. She seriously could have had this done in a matter of minutes. Instead, she drilled me about opening up a savings account for myself. Then she quizzed me about something else. All the while, my 5 year old is eyeballing this pinpad on her desk and dying to press the buttons on it, which, knowing my luck, would sound some kind of alarm and put the damn bank on lockdown. I had visions of bars dropping in front of all of the exits, and a SWAT team flying into the parking lot. Come on lady, you are fricken killin me up in here.
She then proceeds to drill me about setting up all of my bills for direct debit. I said, "No thanks. I'm good." Then, she has the freakin nerve to say, what about your car payment and mortgage? I answered, with a vein bulging in my temple, "Nope. It's paid off." (meaning my car). She actually had the cahoonas to respond, "Even your mortgage?" I looked at her like I was going to rip her trachea out with my bear hands, and said, "No. Not my mortgage." I swear to you, I'm not kidding, she then asked me, "well, who is your morgage with???"
O
M
G
No you did not! Apparently this woman has absolutely NO womanly instinct when danger is present. Could she not see that I was just about the come the hell unglued right there in the bank lobby? Meanwhile, my 5 year old is ready to self destruct, we have been in here for seriously like 45 minutes to open a freaking savings account, and my 10 year old is glowing at the thought of holding that checkbook in her freshly polished hands and is wanting to tell this lady her life story and all about how she acquired this money. She also thought it was an appropriate time to quiz me on why she has a social security card, what it means, how I got it, and why she couldn't carry it in her own wallet. Which, I may add, she manufactured out of pink zebra printed duct tape this week. I'm not even playing with you.
I finally escaped the place after almost an hour. Seriously. That lady has no idea how narrowly she escaped a nasty demise. She even wrapped up by presenting my daughter with one of her business cards in case I changed my mind about letting her get commission on talking me into having my mortgage paid directly out of my account. Had I not had my kids with me, there's a distinct possibility I would have jumped her in the parking lot later that evening. I was tempted to go all ninja on her ass, but I didn't. I knew God was watching. Dangit!
I swear, if I could just get Him to turn His head once in a while, put His fingers in His ears and give me like 5 minutes that He would never hold against me and completely wipe out of the hard drive of His "Bad Shit You Did While On Earth" logging system.....
I could work fast. I know I could!
So that was just a small tidbit of my week. And I have really well-behaved kids. I cannot even imagine how much Baileys some people put in their coffee in the morning...you know, those people you see in the store with the screamin damn kids that make you want to walk right up to their shopping cart and ask, "Did you need ME to beat that kid for you? Cuz I will...."
:)
So, do me a favor. If you drive past the bank and see it surrounded by The Fuzz, and they have weapons drawn and are wearing their vests...
That can only mean one thing. My daughter has asked me to take her BACK to the bank and try to withdraw some loot from her ever-so cherished account....and things went terribly wrong.
If you could then pllease start working on getting together some bail money, I would appreciate it.
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