So said the bank.
The twin entwined with the anxiety of Man Child and Nerd Child getting ready to leave for school is shopping. I don’t love to shop, and the calculations involved make my stomach roll, so I try to minimize the amount of time and days spent shopping by getting as much done as I can in just a few days of whirlwind excursions, clutching my list, a pencil, and a highlighter.
Man Child doesn’t need much this year. But Nerd Child, oh-oh-oh. He’s been in dress code for the past three years, so he owned very little in the way of “regular” clothes and shoes.
He’s headed to an environment with snowier, colder winters, so obviously, more significant boots are required. Then there’s all the stuff needed to outfit a dorm room.
Yesterday, he and I shopped. We did well, got just about everything he needed in terms of clothes–all on sale, whee!!, and came home. A couple of hours later, we decided to make a family excursion of shopping for winter boots. Borrowed Father-In-Law’s car and headed out. Found boots for him, rain boots for the girl to replace the ones that have been leaking, even got a pair of rain shoes for myself, then another store for a suitcase. Then back to the first store after comparing prices to pick up a duffle bag.
After all this, we were starving, it was late, so we splurged and went out for dinner. We don’t do this often, and it’s fun when we do. The waitress was absolutely one of the nicest ones we’ve ever had, so sweet to Flower Child I wanted to wiggle with joy. The check came, we gave her the debit card. She came back and said something I didn’t quite catch to Husband, ending with “not going through.” He smiled and told her it’s a debit card, not credit. She said she had tried it twice.
Now, I know we spent a lot yesterday. But, we’re pretty careful people. For all the spending, we hadn’t blown the budget, and had checked what was in the account and calculated what we could/should spend. In walks Mama Guilt. Mama Guilt didn’t just sit next to me, but sat on my lap and drank the last of my iced tea, one eyebrow raised all the while, “What, you couldn’t have had water?” Then she started tapping her foot against the box of shoes I had purchased for myself. “You’ve been perfectly fine with wet toes for the last forty thousand years. You had to buy rain shoes for yourself?”
Ridiculous, my glass of unsweetened iced tea, and my shoes, had nothing to do with the debit card problem. In fact, Husband called the bank immediately to find out what the problem was. Turns out the bank had noticed we spent a lot more dollars than we ever do, so they put a hold on the account to make sure it was really us. A good thing, in a rational mind. My mind, however, is still lecturing–you still have basic school supplies to purchase…
And the damn card is probably going to spontaneously combust when we get Nerd Child his new glasses.