September 2009 archive

Unreliable Sources

Yup. I did, er do, embezzle money from my family.

Occassionally, I will not share information on a sale with my family. So I may make a sale and then take a few bucks off the top (some husbands may call it skimming) and deposit it into my own personal account. At another bank. Then, when I have a lot, like $15, I might take that debit card from said “extra” account and go to Hobby Lobby and go crazy. By crazy I mean I might buy something and not even think about whether or not I should be buying it. I just buy it, like a crazy mad woman who doesn’t have to think about what she is buying because she stole the money.

Last weekend I went online to buy some digital goodies with the embezzled money. So I clicked the Buy Now button and then I realized that I had a coupon to use. So I cancelelled the purchase and bought it again with the coupon. Well, won’t you know that it took the bank 7 full days to release that pre authorization. Which means that it debited that amount from my account twice? Meanwhile I still had more stuff to buy. So I had to make an emergency trip to the bank to deposit a few extra dollars (oh yeah, which I had to “skim” from Cole’s piggy bank) to make my extra purchase and cover me until the pre-auth was released.

So I thought that if I told Cole we were going to the bank before school it might put a little pep in his step. He was excited and off we went. Then I dropped him off, bought the goods and went on with the rest of the day.

Will gets home and they talk and play as I am on the computer. I had forgotten about the whole money thing by the afternoon. Cole however had not. I overhear the conversation and it goes a little like this:

“What did you do today?”

“I went to the bank.”

“You didn’t go the bank. Pause. Who did you go to the bank with?”

“Mommy and me go to the bank.”

“Honey, did you go to the bank?”

Crap! “Um, no. What business would I have at the bank?”

“Cole, did you go to the bank today with Mommy?”

“Yup!”

“Honey, Cole is convinced you went to the bank.”

Now I’m in too deep. “Seriously Will, he’s 2. They probably learned about the bank at school. I did not go to the bank.”

The highlight of his day must have been the bank because that turd talked about how we went to the bank all damn evening! Telling Daddy over and over again how we went to the bank. Urgh!

So the night finally ended and we went to bed. I woke up and the pre auth had cleared and I needed to go back and withdraw Cole’s money to return it into his piggy bank before it was discovered that it was gone.

“Cole, let’s go.”

“Where we going Mommy?”

Ha! I am not telling you. You little rat! “We’re going to take a ride in mommy’s car. C’mon!”

“Where?”

By this time I know he’s not gonna let it go and then even if I don’t tell him he’s going to figure it out when we pull up to the drive through he seemed to enjoy so much yesterday. So I debate calling Will and just confessing the whole thing. It is eating me alive and I can’t keep coming up with lies to cover the other lies. It’s getting out of control.

But then it occurs to me that I have created an unreliable source. And I like that. I can see it already. In 3 years Cole and I might go to the mall and when he snitches that I bought a lot of stuff I can always say, “Honey, he’s a story teller. Remember when he was 2 and he told that story how we went to the bank and we never did? It’s just like that.”

Confession #1

It’s Sunday and fitting for a Catholic (who attends a Baptist church) to confess today.

I swallow my gum. I don’t know why, but I do. I can’t pop a gum in my mouth without swallowing it. It’s like a reflex. Usually I don’t even know I have done it until my husband asks me what happened to my gum.

Yeah, I like gum.

What else?

Our conversation as we drive home from picking Cole up from school:

“What did you eat at school today?”

“I eat banana.”

“And what else?”

“I eat chocolate milk”

“and what else?”

“I eat fruit roll up.”

“and what else?”

“I eat sandwich.”

Then, when I am satisfied that he has checked off everything I packed him, I stop asking what else. It’s like a rigid test, some may call it a torture test, to see what my 2 year old can remember because I know exactly what he ate. I packed it remember?

So I picked up Cole from school on Tuesday and was inundated with work so my mind was somewhere else. I forgot to ask him what he had for lunch.

“Mommy, I play with Play Doh today.”

“That’s wonderful Cole. You know what, maybe we can play with Play Doh when we get home.”

“I already did play with Play Doh.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Mommy, I ate Play Doh today. What else?”

1 2 3 8