It Only Drives Right to Left

The other day Rebecca and Rachel were talking about cars.

Rebecca asked Rachel whether she'd drive a Honda like her parents when she grows up. Rachel informed my wife she already drives a Honda. She then told Rebecca that the Honda is one of three cars she has in the garage. "One is pink, one is red and the third is yellow," she said.

"Oh really," Rebecca replied. "Are they all Hondas like mommy and daddy's cars?"

After more discussion, Rachel said, "No. One is a Honda; one is a Ford and the third is a Mezuzzah."

What are the odds?

So I'm sitting at work today and we get a flash from our assignment desk. There has been a traffic accident. The file says the victim may have broken "one or more legs."

I said to no one in particular, "I'm not a betting man, but I'd wager it's no more than two."

News Flash!

Recently, Rachel was helping herself to the coins in a bowl by our bed. She was dumping them on the bedsheets.
Exasperated, I asked, "Rachel! What is this? Menopause?"
Confused, my wife asked, "What do you mean by that?"
I replied, "She's going through the change!"

Big Bad John

All of us have fears. Mine include fire and deep water.
Rachel is scared of fire too, but she has another fear that she encounters much too often in these modern times...toilets that automatically flush.
If we're in a restaurant with toilets that automatically flush, she'd rather hold it in and hope for the best than sit on one and risk being sucked into the city sewage system.
Recently, we were in a restaurant when Rachel felt the urge. Rebecca went with her and reported back that Rachel wantde no part of the automatically flushing toilet. I could sense my child's discomfort a few minutes later, so I persuaded her to come to the men's room with me. Unfortunately, all of its toilets flushed automatically too.
So I decided to be the kind of dad my daughter would remember fondly in her later years. With my pants remaining up, I say down on the toilet and scooted back as far as I could, uncomfortably so, I might add. I then urged Rachel to sit down in front of me and do her business.
"Can I tt in your lap?" she asked.
I informed her the toilet seat would be just fine.
Reassured, Rachel did what she had to do.
Remember those sappy cartoons that used to run in the comics? They were called Love is... and featured these two cherubic characters?
They always had captions like Love is....letting her have the last piece of cake. Or Love is.....holding the door open for her. Or Love is...feeding bread to the ducks together. Well, I'll be waiting for Love is....sharing an automatically flushing toilet with your daughter.

Rachel's Itchy Fingers

I had some important business to take care of on the computer (or as Rachel still calls it, the pereeter) before the end of the year. I wanted to transfer $2000 from an account in Atlanta to an account at Schwab for later transfer into an account set aside for Rachel's college fund.

As usual, Rachel's toddler sonar detected that daddy was on the computer and she couldn't escape the gravitational pull. So she sat on my lap while I tried to reach around her and tap the correct keys.

My computer is a dialup and exceptionally slow. For some reason, it's even more slow when I'm on the Schwab website. The Schwab screen is slow to appear after I hit "transfer funds." Then after I identify where the money is going, I have to wait for it to refresh again. Then I indicate where the money is coming from. Again, I have to wait for a refresh. Then I say it's a one-time transfer. After the next interlude, I can finally say how much I plan to transfer and hit submit. I then wait for confirmation.

So there I sit the other day. I've finally reached the point where I can submit the $2000 transfer. Just as I hit "submit" Rachel hits two keys and the screen goes back to the previous step.

WIth no confirmation, I go through the process again. By now, I'm a little anxious and steam is coming from my ears. With Rachel now banished from the computer room, I put the $2000 in her college fund and log off.

Just to make sure, I call Charles Schwab's Customer Service Department. It is there my fears are realized. Thanks to Rachel, $4000 is now transferred for Rachel's college fund. And I can't get back the $2000 that shouldn't be there until the following Wednesday, five or six days away. I put in that order.

Fast forward to Wednesday. My broker sees that I have now submitted a new order to transfer $2000 from the Schwab account to the other Schwab account that is for Rachel's college fund. As luck would have it, the $4000 I transferred the previous week still hasn't cleared.

My broker figures I let things get away from my attention during the holidays, so she transfers another $2000 to cover my deposit to Rachel's college fund. Later in the day, the $4000 clears.
So now, because Rachel couldn't help touching two keys, $6000 has now been moved into an account when $2000 is all I wanted moved in the first place!

Now it's the next day, Thursday. It's a big day. My cast comes off my left leg for good, replaced by a walking boot. I can finally take a shower again, much to my delight and I'm sure, the delight of others around me. The doctor's office informs me I owe 22o-something dollars for the sum total of my visits insurance didn't cover. I know the money is in my Schwab account, so I hand over my credit cards and it comes back insufficient funds. I put it on another card and call my broker when I get home.

The Schwab account shows $4000 in it. For a while, we're baffled. Then my broker realizes that even though I've waited since late last week for the money to transfer from Atlanta, I have to wait three more days until I can write checks on it.

Rachel had better REALLY enjoy college!