First Commonwealth Bank…. Pittsburgh Mills Mall…. it’s a long story why I even have an account there, but word to the wise, from the un-wise… if you open an account there and throw in $50 bucks, you must use it within a certain amount of time or they’ll start charging you a fee… slowly eating away at your $50 like bugs on an expired Jack-o-Lantern… kinda of like saying, “Thanks for banking with us, don’t forget about us!”
They were very nice when I poured in with a pink Tu–Tu and shoeless one-year-old in tow (no pun intended). I was the only one there and was welcomed immediately. I plopped the boy on the counter and handed her my statement, with a debit card that was never activated. She called for back-up, not because the boy started to pull flyers from the harvest-themed decorated counter, but because the account has become inactive and would need him to be re-activated, letting go my hostage of $50, wait, no, $44 now.
The other manager (I’m assuming he’s a manager because he wasn’t waiting on anyone and was really tall) chimed in,
“I like people who let the money sit there and don’t touch it, you should do more of that!”
Awkward smile from me, droll from the boy onto my shoulder.
Charlie is running around, I’m waiting for the other manager to come back with my statement that had random phone numbers scribbled onto it like it had become scratch paper and on my to-do list for the past month… thanks for watching my $50, oh, I mean $44 guys!
The teller mentioned something about a savings account for kids, and I asked if she had a brochure. Meanwhile, Theo has crawled over to the water machine and had his fingers in full force emptying the barrel.
“Speaking of saving for the kids…!” I run over and grab him, clean up the puddle of water with the teller behind me, “It’s OK, I’ll get it, don’t worry about it. Do they want a lollipop?”
Enter candy…. is this the only way we know how to occupy children in a public place for 5-10 minutes?
“Uh, yes, sure, thank you. Charlie, would you like a lollipop?” My life is consumed by rhetorical questions…. consumed.
“Would you like pink?” she asks?
Of course she’d like pink…. thank yous all around.
“And for your little brother?”
He’s a baby! He has 6 teeth and he clearly chooses not to walk yet… is every one’s husband a pediatric dentist??
“Uh, blue, yeah, blue’s fine.”
Before I have a chance to grab my brochure and throw away the sopping wet paper towel with my right hand, Charlie has unwrapped the blue lollipop and pushed it into the toddler’s mouth who is wrapped around my left arm.
Giggles… from me not anyone else and we fumbled through the doors… I’m laughing at the quick after thoughts of the bank tellers and giggling at my next rhetorical question…
“Is that good, do you like that?”
I plop him into his car seat and open the door for Charlie. Before I get into my seat, I take the sticky stick out of his mouth so he doesn’t choke on it, stick it in my mouth while I buckle Charlie in and then set it on the only thing I have available, Lord knows I lost the wrapper in the shuffle… I stick it on a Kleenex…
He begins screaming as I pull out… I know what he wants…. let him cry it out… just like the middle of the night… he won’t know what he doesn’t have… he’ll forget… he always does.
Don’t touch those outlets…