Friday, June 3, 2022

The Day Irony Bit Val on the Rumpus

Thursday, I stopped by Pony House to pick up OUR HOUSE PAYMENT! The Pony had his one day off for the week. I called ahead. I don't want to snoop or interfere with his down time. Hick had plans to work around home for the day. I told The Pony I would park in his gravel driveway by the back door.

The Pony came out and sat in T-Hoe while writing the payment check. He mostly banks online, but does have a local account. He still has his "trainer checks," or whatever they call those sample generic checks they give you when you open an account.

Thursday's check was #102.

As he wrote it out, The Pony asked, "Do I put a comma in here when I write the words?"

"Only if you put a comma in the number when you write it."

"Okay. Hmm... it's not tearing out very well."

"Here. Let me show you. Fold it up like this to crease it, then pull OUT, rather than lifting up and trying to tear it that way."

"Oh. Okay."

We chatted a few minutes, then The Pony made his escape. I drove the check about a half mile to our credit union to deposit in our account.

The teller there gave me the 3rd degree about which account. She was perfectly polite and cheerful, and within her rights to do so, since we have several accounts, and I did not have the account number with me.

"Okay. I see which one you mean. Except... they forgot to sign this check."

"Huh. Isn't that always how it goes! I'll have to go back and get it signed. It will just take a minute. It's only a few blocks away. As you can see, he doesn't write many checks!"

So off I went, not exactly happy about walking back to T-Hoe, and then back inside for my business. The drive itself wasn't the issue, it was so close. Just extra effort for my knees. I called The Pony as I got in T-Hoe, and he was sitting on his front retaining wall waiting when I got there.

"I'm really sorry, Mom. I thought you checked the check when I gave it to you."

"No. I was just showing you how to tear it. I thought you could write a check. You've done one before!"

"Yeah. Well. You might still be on that account."
 "It would look pretty suspicious for me to sign a check made out to myself!"
"I give you permission to forge my signature any time you need to!"

"I could never copy that scratch. I've got your dad's down, but not yours."

Back I went to the credit union. 

"Oh. That didn't take long."

"No. I'm lucky it's so close. He was waiting out front."

I think she still had my account on the screen. She started punching in the information, then shoved the check back through the little slot.

"You need to endorse the back."

Oh. Well. Sure I did.

Yes. I DID send The Pony a text to reveal my faux pas. I guess we both need somebody to double-check our checks. Someone with more experience than my 44 years and his two months.


  1. It took me forever to rip checks out. I still screw them up sometimes. I thought it was just my bank and crappy perforations.

    1. You're welcome for the virtual lesson on how to rip them out. Unless your bank requires a thumbprint to make the perforations release.

  2. Meh, we all make mistakes. Like me, tonight, trying to turn on the kitchen light, which was already on, heh.

    1. While I was sleep-deprived with never-napping Baby Genius, I stepped into the shower wearing my socks.

  3. I had a never-napper too, but he happily rolled around on the floor while I took naps and he did sleep well every night from 7pm to 6am.

    1. Genius was also a never-sleeper as a toddler. We'd finally go to bed, and leave him lying on the couch with the TV on.

      The Pony was an award-winning sleeper and napper, praised by his daycare lady as falling asleep the minute he laid down on his little cot for nap time. She gave up on Genius after the first week, and let him lie on a cot in the main room, with the TV on low, while the other nine kids slept in the other room.

  4. When my mother died, both my sister and I commented to me Dad that it was good that she died first because she was incapable of even writing a check! This will soon be a lost art!! My mother also liked naps and woe be unto the one who woke her!!!

    1. My mom had to learn how to put gas in her car. And how to get the vehicle inspections to obtain a license plate. She was not a napper, but woe to the person who brought her slaw and tried to open it for her! She stabbed a spoon handle through the plastic film to get to it quicker than peeling it off!