Well, the three toed sloth is STILL working----granted- all those little "career" jokes the mountain man and I may have spouted (Would you like fries with that order?) have returned to bite us in our collective proverbial ass- but he's working and happy. Oh, and did I mention he now has his own money?
'Tis a blessing, him having his own cash to squander. Then again, it could be a curse.....
Years ago (cue dream sequence music here) mysuestories had a brain storm. I opened up custodial bank accounts for the kids, custodial meaning the little buggers couldn't get their grubby little hands on that moola without the almighty, omnipresent ME present. (Why, yes, I do have control issues. Why do you ask?)
Anyway, for years deposits were made (by moi) and withdrawals were transacted with my consent by them. And so the banking world turned on it's mighty axis.
Fast forward to present day times:
The three-toed sloth is over the age of eighteen, thereby rendering the need for a custodial savings useless in the eyes of banks every where. I may have neglected in revealing this little tidbit of information to the sloth, in the hopes of actually keeping some of his savings in...the (you guessed it) savings account.
Back to yesterday. Friday. The sloth's payday. He, having the luxury of not having to arise at the ass crack of dawn and drive 32 miles whilst still sleeping, called me around noon, wondering when I could get him to the bank to cash that almighty (seventy-five large ones, yo) paycheck for which he (hah) slaved at a drive through window for.
mysuestories: "Well, I could be home by five (if I break most state driving regulations)"
sloth: "But I have to be at work by four!!!!"
mysuestories(to myself): You, sonny, are f*cked. Out loud? I said, "Well, gee, sweetie,
maybe we could go tomorrow.."
sloth: "I need to go today!!!"
mysuestories: "Hmmmn...well, since you just want to cash this huge check, I think you
can probably go to the bank by yourself and cash it against your account. That means they will hold the same (pitiful) amount of money for a few
days until the check actually clears, but they should cash the check."
Who am I kidding...I lost him at you can cash it.
Flash forward ten minutes. That kids must have run to the bank.
sloth: "Mom! They won't cash it. They say they need you here. Why would you tell me to go all the way to the bank if you knew they wouldn't cash the check??
How could you do this to me?"
?!? WTF? I did this? Why that little f*cker.....And so I replied to my first born, he of the twenty six hour excruciating labor..each pain returning to me as I began to answer, my voice a little louder and dripping with more than a little sarcasm:
mysuestories: "You caught me!" I told him, " For eighteen years, and nine months before you were even born, I have been plotting and planning this very exact moment
knowing you would call with a banking problem. I've dreamed about doing this
to you ! So that I could sit here at work busting my ass to feed and clothe you
and then, then, after all that time of carrying you and birthing you and raising
you- then, this day finally arrived so I could make you go all four blocks to
the bank for absolutely no reason! You got me! The gig is up! I. Am. Busted!"
I may, or may not have been maniacally laughing by this point.
sloth: "um, okay, Mom, I'll talk to you later." click
And then I look up from my desk at the faces of my three co workers, who have all stopped performing their assorted tasks, the better to stare at me, mouths agape. And then they , each and every one of them a mother, started to laugh. And cry. And laugh some more.
So much for that mother of the year nomination this year. Sigh.
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