I’m Rich, I’m Rich

A funny thing happened on Wednesday afternoon whilst I was doing the school run. 

I’m driving along and my cellphone rings. So I answer it (on my car kit) and it is Beatrice from my bank.

She wants to know why I have so much money sitting in a non-interest bearing account and can she open a Marketlink account for me (where I will earn interest!).

So i ask her if she is speaking to the right Mrs  – my mother-in-law and I share the same initials.  She of course confirms my ID number, date of birth etc and we establish that I am indeed the correct person.

http://collegecandy.com/

So I ask her how much money is sitting in the account – and of course it is a small fortune – R74,000 to be exact (Around US$10,000).

Now if you know me – you will know that I am anal with money – I know where every single cent is and where it goes. 

So I scratch my head trying to think where I have this much money sitting around – especially seeing  as though I am overdrawn and my credit card is very sick.  She confirms it is a normal transaction account that has no ATM card linked.

Now there is a history of me and banks – I dislike them almost as much as I dislike the taxman.  They are all out to F&*k you out of every cent you have.  I have survived most of my married life without anything more than a low-end transaction account – the one with the cheapest fees.  I have full signing powers on hubby’s account (with personal banker and all the bells and whistles) so I have very little need for my own.  About a year ago I finally admitted that I should open my own account – in case hubby snuff’s it in the middle of the night and I need access to money type of thing!

So I opened a cheque account with credit card etc etc – bank was instructed to close my old account and transfer all monies etc over and link it all to my ATM card and Internet banking profile. 

Now I Have loads of accounts linked to my ATM card and Internet banking profile – hubby’s accounts / kids accounts / 4 of my companies accounts / credit cards / savings etc.

Anyway – Beatrice asks me to pop into the bank so we can discuss this money (which I insist I don’t have).  She was off yesterday so I went to see her this morning – she phoned to make sure I was coming in.

So off I rush to the bank at lunch time today – as she has called again this morning to remind me – this cannot be a hoax and maybe, just maybe it might be mine…..

So I sit with her and she opens up the account and shows me the balance – goes into the history and this money has been lying in the account for years.  (It is not like someone transferred money into my account by accident and I am rich for a day!)

I sat there is disbelief – Beatrice is in hysterics at this point – she thinks I am one of the funniest people she has ever served.  She cannot believe I had forgotten / did not know I had this money.

So Beatrice kindly opens a new moneymarket account for me and transfers the money in and I leave the bank with a smile on my face – perhaps I can take hubby out for lunch! (Perhaps he will let me buy a plane ticket so I can go see my son in Dubai for a few days!)

Of course as I type this post – I am back to being poor again – overdraft is looking better and I can finally use my credit card again!

(Note to Son no 2 – Your Father did not agree to the plane ticket – In case you thought I would be there at the crack of dawn tomorrow!)

Vibrators and Finger Massagers

I have been married for quite a while now and Hubby and I have had our fair share of “toys” in the bedroom.  We have a secret stash of P-O-R-N, lubricants, vibrators etc.

My kids have never been the exploring type and we are fairly open and honest.  There are no taboo topics which we don’t discuss with them. We encourage talk about sex, nudity etc etc.  However there are certain things which we don’t disclose to the kids – our secret stash is of course one of those things.

I keep my vibrators in the bottom draw of my nightstand and the rest is kept elsewhere in the bedroom.

When my first 2 sons were much younger – I think they were around 9 and 6 years old, we went though a period where we spent quite a lot of time in the bedroom as a family – I had just given birth to son no 3 and it was the middle of winter so it was easier to keep the bedroom warm and just hang out there in the evenings.

So one evening son no 1 and 2 were playing on the floor and hubby and I were watching TV in the bedroom.  All of a sudden son no 2 says “What’s this mommy?”

Pic from http://www.untypicallyjia.com

Of course he was holding up my vibrator.  Back in those days we did not have all the funny shapes and sizes we have today – they were fairly boring and flesh coloured.  So I said the first thing that came to mind – “It is my finger massager”.

Hubby and I froze waiting for a reaction from son no 1 and 2. 

Son no 2 bent back over and put it back in the draw and said “Oh”.  And that was the end of the conversation.

Both of them were happy with my explanation, they didn’t ask for any more information and we of course did not volunteer any more.

It wasn’t until many years later when they were in their late teens when it suddenly dawned on Son no 2 what it was and we had a really good laugh about it.  It still comes up occassionally at family gatherings.

Don’t get involved – Part 2

(This is a follow on from Part 1 so please read Part 1 if you have not already done so – see previous post.)

So all is hunky dory again.  Toffee seems fine.  MIL and daughter-in-law took her to their vet on Saturday morning and got her checked out – nothing really wrong – just age.

We spent some time in the pool yesterday afternoon.  Toffee found an old bone of Buddy’s which she dug up and was happily chewing this in the middle of the lawn – Buddy is not bothered about this.  Buddy is swimming with us and likes the water.  We eventually get out and dry ourselves off.

Hubby and I go back inside to get dressed, Son no 4 is still drying himself on the patio.  Both dogs have followed him inside.  They have a quick snarl at each other (like they have done many times before).

But this time, the snarling turns into a full blown FIGHT.

Hubby and I can hear it from the bedroom and we come rushing through.  The fight has now made its way outside and both dogs are trying to kill each other.

I use a broom to try to part them, we are pouring water on them, my mother-in-law is trying to grab one of them by the head and pull it away.  I am shouting at my mother-in-law to please not put her hands anywhere near the dogs as she may be injured (and that is all I need).  Hubby is trying to part them,  Son no 3 and 4 are rushing around finding leads and bringing more water.

Nothing helps – they just keep going for each other.

Eventually I manage to grab one of Toffee’s legs and Hubby manages to grab one of Buddy’s legs and we manage to part them.

Leads are put on them both and they are seperated.

Toffee is locked up in the side passage of our garden and Buddy is locked up on the patio.  Buddy is limping and can barely walk.

So now what….  This can obviously not happen again and Hubby and I agree that Toffee needs to be put into kennels for the remainder of the renovations.  It is just not worth the risk of another incident like this.

Broke the news to Son no 1 last night – didn’t want to put this extra expense on his plate as it is money they could use towards the renovations but there is no way I am going to allow the 2 dogs to socialise again.

Toffee seems fine this morning.  Buddy will not get up – he is awake and he is trying to wag his tail but is obviously too sore to get up.  I give him a good feel all over to see if I can find any visible wounds.

Hubby insists he will be fine – “just leave him alone” he says.  I cannot leave him alone – I am worried and insist on taking him to the vet.

So off I go to the vet again this morning – to my usual vet!

Vet examines poor Buddy – he is badly beaten and bruised and all wounds are superficial.  He gives him some pain meds and back home we go.

Dogs are still seperated.  Son no 1 is looking into various long term kennels and they will hopefully be able to board Toffee within the next few days.

And so life continues….

Don’t get involved – Part 2

(This is a follow on from Part 1 so please read Part 1 if you have not already done so – see previous post.)

So all is hunky dory again.  Toffee seems fine.  MIL and daughter-in-law took her to their vet on Saturday morning and got her checked out – nothing really wrong – just age.

We spent some time in the pool yesterday afternoon.  Toffee found an old bone of Buddy’s which she dug up and was happily chewing this in the middle of the lawn – Buddy is not bothered about this.  Buddy is swimming with us and likes the water.  We eventually get out and dry ourselves off.

Hubby and I go back inside to get dressed, Son no 4 is still drying himself on the patio.  Both dogs have followed him inside.  They have a quick snarl at each other (like they have done many times before).

But this time, the snarling turns into a full blown FIGHT.

Hubby and I can hear it from the bedroom and we come rushing through.  The fight has now made its way outside and both dogs are trying to kill each other.

I use a broom to try to part them, we are pouring water on them, my mother-in-law is trying to grab one of them by the head and pull it away.  I am shouting at my mother-in-law to please not put her hands anywhere near the dogs as she may be injured (and that is all I need).  Hubby is trying to part them,  Son no 3 and 4 are rushing around finding leads and bringing more water.

Nothing helps – they just keep going for each other.

Eventually I manage to grab one of Toffee’s legs and Hubby manages to grab one of Buddy’s legs and we manage to part them.

Leads are put on them both and they are seperated.

Toffee is locked up in the side passage of our garden and Buddy is locked up on the patio.  Buddy is limping and can barely walk.

So now what….  This can obviously not happen again and Hubby and I agree that Toffee needs to be put into kennels for the remainder of the renovations.  It is just not worth the risk of another incident like this.

Broke the news to Son no 1 last night – didn’t want to put this extra expense on his plate as it is money they could use towards the renovations but there is no way I am going to allow the 2 dogs to socialise again.

Toffee seems fine this morning.  Buddy will not get up – he is awake and he is trying to wag his tail but is obviously too sore to get up.  I give him a good feel all over to see if I can find any visible wounds.

Hubby insists he will be fine – “just leave him alone” he says.  I cannot leave him alone – I am worried and insist on taking him to the vet.

So off I go to the vet again this morning – to my usual vet!

Vet examines poor Buddy – he is badly beaten and bruised and all wounds are superficial.  He gives him some pain meds and back home we go.

Dogs are still seperated.  Son no 1 is looking into various long term kennels and they will hopefully be able to board Toffee within the next few days.

And so life continues….

Don’t get involved – Part 1

Before I delve into the real story behind this post, I need to give you some background information….  I am going to break it into 2 parts as it is probably quite long.


Son no 1 has just bought a house – in fact he and his wife have bought his mother-in-law’s (MIL’s) house.  Him and his wife decided to buy the MIL’s house and build a cottage on the property for her to live in.  The house also needs a little TLC.  So Son no 1 and his wife have moved back into the cottage on our property while the building work and renovations are taking place.  The MIL has moved in with a friend.


Of course they have had to bring some of their (and the MIL’s) pets with to live on our property as follows:


1 – A parrot called PERCY.  The parrot and I spend the day whistling at each other and is very cute.  I am determined to teach it to say the word PEANUT before they move out again (kids are determined to get it to say DOGS BOLLOCKS).


2 – A cat called SAM – Son no 1 and his wife got Sam as a kitten when they still lived with us.  Sam lived with us for about a year so he is familiar with the property.  He also gets on well with my cats.


3 – A dog called TOFFEE.  Toffee is a Labrador crossed with who-knows-what.  He is 12-15 years old and struggles with arthritis.  Generally has a good temperament but has definitely seen better days.


The other character in this story is my dog Buddy who is a cocker-spaniel – features in Part 2.


Now Toffee and Buddy sort of get on – they don’t romp around and play with each other, but then they are not spring chickens anymore.  Occasionally they have a little snarl at each other but there have been no fights (yet).


So this story starts off last week Thursday.  Toffee started yelping for no reason when she moved.  So I noticed she was not happy and I called my daughter-in-law – she is currently auditing a large banking institution and has been working till 10pm at night.  So I call her and explain the issue.  She then calls the MIL (as she is the legal owner of the dog) and then she calls me back.  She kindly asks me to take the dog to the vet – she cannot get away from work and the MIL lives a 30min drive away.


So Hubby is looking at me with those judgemental eyes and says “you are getting involved again….”.  I politely tell him to bugger off – my kids are working hard for a living and I will help out wherever I can.


So off I go to the vet – I don’t go to my usual vet as he is based on the other side of the highway – 5-10 minute drive but can take 30 minutes in peak hour traffic to get there and possibly 60 minutes to get back.  It is around 5pm so there will be traffic.


I go to my local neighbourhood vet who is based a few streets away – he is not my favourite person but I really don’t feel like spending hours in traffic at the moment.  He is not busy and we go straight in to see him.  He inspects the dog and informs me that the dog is very arthritic (nothing we don’t know already).  He is not convinced the yelping is related though and he cannot identify any other reason for the yelping unless he does a full work up of tests – this of course is going to cost some money.


So I call my daughter-in-law and relay the conversation – she then calls the MIL and then calls me back.  The dog is obviously getting on in years, the dog is struggling with arthritis and is obviously costing more to keep.  This is a bit of an issue – not a big issue but as they are a newly married couple and with the purchase of the house, finances are an issue.  So she asks for my advice – should they consider putting the dog down – they have been expecting to make this decision for a while now and they don’t want the poor thing to suffer.


I explain that I am not emotionally attached to the dog and I cannot make this decision or even offer any advice.


Now I don’t get emotionally attached to animals – I love my pets to bits, I am a responsible pet owner and my pets are very well looked after.  I feel sorry for the rhino’s and dolphins and all other living things, but quite honestly I am just not the sort of person who gets attached to animals.  (and to be perfectly honest I am just too busy – with bringing up 4 boys, managing Hubby and running a company, I just don’t have the time or inclination to create that special little space in my heart for them)


So by this point my daughter-in-law is sobbing her heart out.  They have been expecting to make this decision for a while now and perhaps this is the right time.  Let her go peacefully….


So I relay this to the vet.  He of course explains that he cannot take this instruction from me – in fact he will not take the instruction from my daughter-in-law either – he wants the instruction from the MIL as she is the legal owner.


So I explain this to my daughter-in-law – who is still sobbing her heart out.  She then calls the MIL and gets the MIL to call me.  I answer the call and the MIL is now also in tears.  I hand my phone to the vet for the vet to explain the situation to her.


The vet of course is not very diplomatic – he pretty much accuses her of not being a responsible pet owner and says she should be there with the dog and not me.  Now the MIL is sobbing uncontrollably and I can hear it from 2m away.  He then also tells her that as she is too emotional at the moment he will not take instructions over the phone either – she needs to put it in writing.  So this whole issue gets worse and worse and I am stuck in the middle.


All I wanted to do was help – the dog was not happy and I offered to take it to the vet expecting an injection or 2 and possibly some pain tablets – instead I walked straight into this whole drama.


Anyway, the vet eventually terminates the call with the MIL as he cannot understand a word she is saying as she is crying so much.  The vet and I then agree that the best line of action is to give an anti-inflammatory injection and perhaps a tranquiliser.  So the injections are administered and I take the dog back home.  The dog is now very drowsy and goes straight into her basket and sleeps for the night.


The dog wakes up the next morning and is back to her usual self – no yelping and now walking fine (so all that drama for nothing).


Hubby of course is having a quite little giggle and muttering “I told you so”.  Son no 1 wants no part in this whole issue – he too does not get emotionally attached to animals and tolerates the dog for his wife’s sake.


This is where I will end this post – go to Part 2 for the rest of the story.