I was a mere 19 and in my college freshman prime. It was a beautiful, sunny Friday in small town Arkansas. I was vibrantly decked out in my social club (think sorority, but scaled down by 90%) jersey. I had matching blue eyeliner and probably a beaded choker. Like I said, prime. I, your mother, had a problem in the realm of balancing my checkbook. A checkbook register is something that was all the rage before online banking and sweeps. It helped make sure you didn’t spend more money than you had in the bank. In my precollege days, I had been known to have an overdraft fee or two. But I had put my childish ways behind me and entered college as a responsible young woman. So you can imagine my surprise when I received the overdraft notice! I had checked my balance the day before I withdrew from the ATM. The bank had made a mistake! I had not committed the monetary sin of spending more than I had, I just knew it! And I had made a plan to go in and tell them about it.
So, on this beautiful Friday afternoon, I marched my blue and orange self into the main branch of my bank and asked to speak with someone who could resolve this issue. So I sat and waited. All of the sudden this extremely handsome gentleman rounded the corner and called my name. He invited me into an office where I eagerly made my case. We had a discussion about it might have been the bank, but it could have been my lack of recording my spending. I was in total denial that it could have been my issue. He told me he’d have to look into if they could forgive it this one time and he needed my phone number so he could let me know. Little did I know, as soon as I walked out of the office, he had already cleared it.
I went back to the dorm, giggling and chatting with my friends about how cute this guy was and how I couldn’t believe I was wearing my jersey. All I had to go off of was his name tag. So, a few hours later, when I got the call in the grocery store parking lot, that everything was taken care of, and my friends eagerly asked who was on the phone, I said “It was Bank Andrew!!!” That is why when your father calls me, it still comes up as Bank Andrew.
It would be a few years before we would start dating, but I can always remember the very first moment I laid eyes on your father. I remember thinking, in ten years, if we bumped into each other would I still think he was the most handsome man in the world. Turns out he was thinking the same thing. Good news is, six years of marriage later, it still holds true and he is my better half. And don’t worry, Dad will be in charge of teaching you financial responsibility, although the occasional minor mistake might lead to meeting the best person on the face of this earth for you. 🙂