A long time ago, in a tax bracket far far away, I enjoyed a twice yearly jaunt to the casino. David and I used to dress up in the most fabulous clothes. I always chose something madly designer chic and clingy. We had reservations at one of the nicer restaurants and we'd linger over juicy fatty calorific cuts of meat before we hit the blackjack tables and slot machines. There were coins flying and lipstick and champagne glasses and most everything felt like it was beating to "The Wonder Of It Allllllllllllll (Fox-wooods!)"
Fast forward 7 years, 2 kids, and the decision to stay at home with my kids. Then add My mother, who wanted to go to the casino for her birthday. I saved for two months. I scrimped. I pocketed the occassional change on David's dresser. (It is with pride that I announce supreme self control in not going after Abby's Hello Kitty purse, which has more money in it than I have in my bank account.)So after all that saving, what was I left with?
14 pounds of quarters in my purse that I giddily brought up to the cashier's booth at the casino. (No, we didn't eat at the casino. That would've sucked up our precious Nickle-Slots spending account. WHoooo-Hooooo! Can you even imagine why they wouldn't let us in the High Limit Slots area???) So anyway, I THWUNKed my gargantuan purse on the teller's table and crack that puppy open to change the quarters in for a more mobile slot-ready cash denomination.
I grabbed quarters, placing them in a bucket.....
"Got a babysitter tonight, huh?" The teller asks.
"Yeah! How did you know I have kids?"
"A Pooh-Bear diaper fell out of your purse."
I will never recapture the glamorous days of yore.