This morning, in my quest to desperately fill the hours between 8 and 11 a.m., I went to the bank. Lately, I have been going inside to do my banking. Yes, it’s a pain to unbuckle Worm and walk at toddler pace into the bank, only to walk back out and re-buckle in five minutes, but I’m really not that busy. Plus they don’t always see Worm in the back of the dance mobile, so he gets screwed out of his lollipop. To a kid, bank = lollipop.
When I got to the teller, I couldn’t find the check I wanted to cash. I dug through my purse and the diaper bag, but it wasn’t turning up. So I told the guy I would look for the check at home and come back later. Back to the car, walking .25 miles per hour. Re-buckle squirmy the wormy.
Once in the car, I looked again for the check. This time I found it, so we started the whole process over.
The teller sees me and says, “Wow, that was a fast trip home!” So I say, “Yeah, we live close. You know that big dumpster behind Hobby Lobby?”
He says nothing. Total crickets. He just gives me a funny look and starts typing on his tiny bank computer.
The transaction proceeds normally from there. Show ID, clarify the type of bills I want, confirm that Worm can have a lollipop. Then, as I am unwrapping Worm’s lollipop, the guy starts to laugh and says, “Oh, I just got the dumpster thing! You were joking that you live close because you live in that dumpster over there.”
Um. Yeah. Not funny five minutes later, dude. To be honest, not really that funny when I said it.
Could I maybe get a copy of my last statement and a fine tooth comb?
On the plus side, there’s a good chance I will be getting another thank you note