Monday, January 27, 2014

I Need To Install Security Cameras In My Kitchen

The Pony spent Friday night with his grandma, who dropped him off at bowling league at noon on Saturday. I normally give The Pony his bowling money, but this time I forgot. Hick meets him there, so I knew he would have money for his games, and for lunch. After all, I am the one who doles it out. Hick made sure to inform me on Saturday night that he would be needing reimbursement of his $20 so he could afford his own league on Monday night.

Flash forward to Sunday afternoon, when The Pony and I were headed off to town to meet my mom. As I rounded the kitchen counter, The Pony already standing with one hand on the doorknob, I said, "Wait a minute! I need to leave your dad's $20 before I forget." I went back around and laid the bill under one of his unbunched bananas. I turned my back a minute to grab some leftover fortune cookies for Mom. We were already running late, so I hurriedly joined The Pony to make our exit.

As we drove down the gravel road, we saw that Hick had his Ford F250, his $1000 Caravan, and his Pacifica all parked in front of the BARn. Who knows what kind of Frankensteining was about to be perpetrated. I know that Hick had left earlier on his Goodwill/home show/tire tour, so I assumed he must have been eenie-meenie-minie-moeing to see which vehicle would need major repairs next.

When The Pony and I returned about an hour later, we forgot to spy on Hick across the BARn field. Going up the driveway, all out of sync with our routine because we had left the garage door open as a spring-saving method, we were discombobulated. "Oh. I forgot I don't need to push the door opener," said The Pony, standing, bent at the waist, reaching for the passenger side sun visor from his regular seat behind the driver's. "Huh. There's Dad's Pacifica. I guess he's home. I didn't notice the van, though. So give me the keys just in case." He headed off to carry in some unperishable Walmart spoils from Saturday.

Inside the house, I saw that the twenty was gone from under the banana. "Your dad must be here. His money is gone. Do you see him?"

"No. Everything's off. The front door is locked. Maybe he's gone in the van, or in the BARn."

That was as curious as we got. It's not like the temperature was 1 degree. It was upper 50s. For all I knew, Hick might have been cruising around on his Gator. Because nothing spurs a man to tool around in a bright green open glorified golf cart like spending nine hundred dollars on truck repairs three weeks ago, and a couple hundred on tires that very day, all while having a perfectly good Pacifica for driving anywhere, any time. No search party was being mounted by Val Thevictorian.

"Hey! Look what I found in my pocket!" The Pony pulled a folded twenty from the right front pocket of his camo pants. Not that money means anything to The Pony. He rarely spends. He's not a skimmer like Hick and Genius. "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know. Did you wear those pants to the auction with Dad last week? Maybe you left your money in there."

"No. I didn't put it in my pocket. It was in my wallet. And I don't know where that is right now."

"And I just got those pants off the dryer this morning. They've been washed since then. But that twenty is crisp. I never went through a wash and dry. Huh."

"Here. I know it's not mine."

"Good. Now I have an extra twenty!"

We went about our Sunday afternoon business. Hick returned with no word of his whereabouts. We ate supper. Went our separate ways again until bedtime. On Monday morning, as I was trying to catch a chair nap while Hick was getting ready to leave, I heard him call from the kitchen, "Remember, I need my $20 back for bowling." I had almost dozed off. Ding dang dong it! Hick always picks the worst times to speak.

"Okay. Because we might not be home before you leave for bowling. Wait! I gave you that twenty yesterday!"

"No. You may think you did, but you didn't."

"Yes I did! Right before The Pony and I left, I laid out a twenty under your bananas. It was gone when we got back. PONY! Didn't I lay out Dad's money when we left for town?"

"I don't remember you laying it there."

"Yes you do! I made you wait by the door. I laid it there right in front of you, under a banana so it wouldn't blow away."

"Well, I didn't see you put it there."

"I didn't get a twenty."

"Get one out of the inside of my purse, where I keep the house money folded, in the back left." Several minutes passed. "Did you get your money?"

"Well, I'm looking for it. Folded, did you say?"

"Just bring it in here! Turn on the light! What are you doing?" Hick had my whole checkbook out, digging through the middle, when any fool knows I keep the house money in the folds of the purse, and not with my allowance inside the checkbook. I grudgingly pried out a twenty for Hick. Off he went. Nap ruined, I picked up the phone to call my mom. WAIT A MINUTE!

"Hold on, Mom. PONY! You picked up that twenty and put it in your pocket, didn't you? The one under the bananas?"

"I don't remember doing that."

"It's the only explanation. Mom, you're not going to believe what I go through around here."

"Oh, I believe you."

And she's not just taking my side because I'm her precious five-dollar daughter to whom she gave not a shred of currency this leftover-donation time.

6 comments:

  1. I'd say someone is a magician. They're performing incredible disappearing acts...

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  2. My head is spinning trying to follow that 20.

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  3. Leave a twenty dollar bill out and all sorts of interesting things can happen, as your post demonstrates.

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  4. I'm with joeh. Keeping track of that twenty is like remembering who had the Kiss for Little Bear.

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  5. You are better than Angela Lansbury. I'd say the Pony galloped away with your 20.

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  6. Sioux,
    Maybe The Pony can get his own show. He'll be the next David Blaine/Cris Angel to come down the pike, frozen in a block of ice, levitating.

    ******
    joeh,
    You should play the shell game with me. It only costs a $20 bet...

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    Stephen,
    Or let your ex-girlfriend throw one out your New York apartment window, and you'll find one in the pocket of your jacket a few minutes later. The Rule of Even Steven.

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    Leenie,
    I hope you're with Joe, and that you're a betting woman, and that you've brought your own twenty to my shell game. A Kiss fo Little Bear? That sounds like a recipe for mononucleosis soup.

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    Linda,
    The Pony pleads that he does not recall pocketing the twenty. That's his story, and he's stickin' to it. I'm sure he grabbed it absentmindedly, thinking that he was on the way to bowling. He sometimes lacks focus. I can't imagine where he gets that trait.

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