no braids, no dolls

when she eventually goes completely loopy, my friend peggy has one simple request for her caretakers:  "please don't put braids in my hair or dolls in my arms."

i think i'd better pin those instructions to my own shirt right now.

the other day, i received a check for my freelance work. i only bill once a month, so, while it was not a huge some of money, neither was it insubstantial. i endorsed it while i was doing my usual lakshmi impression:  paying bills-helping with spelling-making snacks-helping string beads-sorting mail-folding laundry-answering the phone-helping people pee.

the next morning, after i dropped thing one off at school with the requisite boots, snow pants, hat, and show-and-tell item, i got ready to head to the bank. "i should just make sure that check is in my wallet," i thought.

the check was not in my wallet. 

the check was also not in:

• my backpack
  
• any pockets of any of my pants
  
• any pockets of any of my coats
  
• the recycling (which i sorted)
  
• the trash (which i went through with rubber gloves)
  
• the tax documents i had been collecting for our accountant
  
• miscellaneous papers to be filed
  
• miscellaneous papers to be shredded
  
• stuff that had already been shredded
  
• our office desk drawers
  
• my husband's dresser drawers
  
• my armoire
  
• the wet clothes sitting in the washing machine
  
• the dry clothes sitting in the dryer

finally, after tossing the house for nearly an hour, i called the handsome man for help. "you gave me the phone bill this morning to mail," he said. "should i open the envelope and look in there?" 

yes, i said, you should. 

and lo, there was the check i'd written for the phone company ($30), and a little extra ($800) i'd thrown in by mistake.

i've reminded the handsome man:  no braids, no dolls.

p.s. and you just know the phone company would have cashed it.