A trip to the Bank
I had brave intentions this morning, of opening up a new bank account. I suggest this is brave because dragging two kids into a lofty building and forcing them to sit down any longer than two minutes is quite nearly impossible. But it had to be done. So there we were walking into the tall colonial corporation and requesting to open an account.
They sat us down near the entrance and politely offered the kiddos lollipops and coloring pages, complete with crayons. A glimmer of hope sprouted as I watched Elly eagerly pick a page and get to work coloring in the lines. I tore off the plastic wrappers of the lollipops and handed them over to the girls. With ease, I began exchanging information with my bank representative. Ah, yes this is how opening an account should be, no hassle, no distractions, just a few minutes of uninterrupted conversation.
“Mah!!!” And so it began, Brinley, who was comfortably sitting on my lap the moment before, was now wriggling about, arching her back and stretching her arms out. I had barely begun to give the representative my name.
“Momma!! Mah!! Agh!!” I attempted to ignore the loud pleas of my daughter, talking over her obnoxious squeals. But Brinley is a stubborn one. She screamed again, her legs were now flailing in the air as I forcibly held onto her waist and clenched an uncomfortable smile. I tried my best to relay my information over the loud speaker that is Brinely, but I was very unsuccessful, and I felt bad having to constrain a one year old.
“Momma!! Momma!! Aghh!! Aghh!!” You could hear the screeches grow in the vast hollow space as my darling 16 month olds cheeks burned a bright pink and I submitted to her rage. My hands loosened from her tummy. She slumped off my lap and trudged away on those chunky little thighs. At first I watched from afar as she trekked towards the tellers and pointed upwards.
“Agh! Momma!” She stood on her toes and pointed at the wall that separated the tellers and us. I knew what she was looking for. In our current/soon to be old bank, there is a plastic bin that holds an array of colorful lollipops. Brinley is used to the easy access and I can only assume she expected it to be the same in this bank.
“No more” I politely whispered back at her. The bank was beginning to fill with people. Of course this this didn’t matter to Brinley. She continued to whine and yell, continuously pointing and jumping up and down when I refused to give in to her demands.
“Does she want another lollipop?” My representative asked. She was looking back at Brinley who was filling the air with her desperate noisy pleas. I shook my head, “No, No, one is enough” As if I wanted my little stinker to be anymore wound up. But it did however, force me to get out of my seat and grab her. Wailing and gnashing of teeth, followed by Brinley’s head bobbing back in forth in defiance caused everyone’s head to turn. Some were looks of amusement, others pity, and then some even cooed at the sight.
Side note: Might I add that Ellyanna was a perfect angel the WHOLE time we were at the bank. How lovely it is to have one child that is old enough and calm enough to be obedient and listen.
This is how the next twenty minutes went. Me, trying to quickly spew out all the information I could and give and sign papers as fast as possible. Every other minute I would release a crying Brinley out into the wild and watch where my little stinker would run to next, the big wall before the tellers, the glass doors leading to the busy roads outside, an open office room, the vault, and a side hallway that led to a locked door. She attempted all avenues numerous times. I frantically shared information, then collected a wandering child, then attempted to calm the ferocious screams and kicks of Brinley.
To say I was tired, frustrated and ready to give away a child, is an understatement. Side note: Okay don’t you worry, I’m not about to give up my Brinley. I left that big open room with two kiddos sticky from lollipops, two stuffed animals that a teller donated to my helpless little crew and a stack of papers. And getting Brinley to leave? Well that took some coaxing as well. My angry little stinker refused to leave, shaking her head, yelping and trying to run in the opposite direction. Finally I grabbed her hand and thankfully she went with it. This is the whole reason I am changing banks in the first place, so I don’t need to travel so far and disturb the peace in my little family for any longer than needs be. Have you been here? Please share!