Tag Archives: dad

That Time My Dad Stole All My Money

Since today is April Fool’s Day, here’s a little tale from the vault of dad stories. You remember my dad, right? He’s the one who gave me free butt soap as a gift one time!

This is my dad.

dad

Note* He is not a real pirate. 

Well, several years ago, NOT on April Fool’s Day, my dad went to the bank and needed a check made for something. I don’t remember the exact details, but the bank was going to charge him money to get this check from his own account. Being the hardworking, farm-raised, former Navy man he was, my dad was not about to pay extra for this check from his bank account.

After going back and forth with the bank teller, my dad grew so angry he decided to CLOSE his account and take his banking business elsewhere.

Dad: “Close my accounts!”

Bank Teller: “All of them?”

Dad: “ALL OF THEM!”

Meanwhile, a week or so later, I went to the same bank at a branch in my town and asked to do a fund transfer from my savings to my checking account.

The bank teller stared at the screen. She tells me she needs a manager to look something over.

You know where this is going, don’t you? 

So, the manager comes over and looks at the computer screen.

Manager: “It appears your account has been closed.”

Me: “CLOSED?”

This is the part of the story where the manager escorts me to a tiny desk in a corner, AWAY FROM THE PUBLIC so when they tell me my account has been hacked or something, I DON’T SCARE AWAY ALL THE PEOPLE.

I worked in retail for six years; I know EXACTLY what that tiny desk in the corner is for. 

So now, I’ve been passed onto Man With a Mustache to sleuth out what happened to my entire savings account.

Mustache Man: “It appears your account has been closed.”

Me: “CLOSED? Who closed it? I didn’t close it. All my money was in there! Where is MY MONEY?”

Mustache Man: *scrolling through my account information* “Do you know a…Jerry Witkins?”

Me: *speaking between clenched teeth* “I need to call my father.”

I ring up dear old dad who greets me like he’s Mrs. Doubtfire.

Dad: “Hellooooooo!”

Me: “Did you recently come into a large sum of money, Pops?”

Dad, in all sincerity: “Say, now that you mention it, I did actually find some extra cash.”

Me: “BECAUSE YOU STOLE IT FROM MY ACCOUNT!!!”

Dad explains to me about his trip to the same bank in his town and how he demanded to close his accounts. What he didn’t realize, and the bank teller didn’t explain to him, is that as co-signer for my savings account which my parents started for me as a child, he closed out MY account along with his.

And here’s the kicker, while he had no recollection of the sum of money in this “extra mystery account,” he figured it was one he’d started a long time ago and told the teller, “Yep, close it!”

Me: “You put that money back!”

Dad: “I’ll think about it.”

Me: “You march back into that back, tell the teller what you did, and put my money back!”

Dad did return my savings, and we had a good little laugh about it…much later. But because the bank had closed my account, I had to get a new account and new number. I wasn’t too upset though. This time, there would be NO co-signer.

Happy April Fool’s Day, everybody!
Tell me your best prank story, planned or otherwise!  

 

 

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Gift Giving Gone Wrong

My father, Jerry, is a good man. A hardworking, well-intended and thoughtful man. Any time I go home, he never fails to send me off with some homemade food, a spare cake or two (he’s a baker), or a surplus of some great deal he found – anything from mini cans of juice to say…soap.

One such visit home my dad sent me away with two bottles of soap and two bottles of lotion. They looked like your basic sanitation brand, some great deal he’d found that did nothing for my mother’s decor but got the job done. I grudgingly accepted the bottles and once back at my place offered up the lotion to my boyfriend and my roommate. If they would use it, good for them. I was going to stick with the far better smelling and more visually appealing lotions that I bought, the ones with flowers on the bottle that smelled like coconut or almond oil.

A few months went past and I decided “What the heck! Put the soap in the main bathroom and use it up.”

Later that night I could hear my roommate and his girlfriend laughing in the bathroom. It got so loud I opened my door to see what the fuss was about.

soap and lotion bottles

Of course! It was the soap.

Had I, or better yet my father, bothered to read the bottle, I might have known why my roommate and his lady had a serious case of the giggles.

To start with, in its bold yellow lettering it reads: MULTI PURPOSE PERINEAL CLEANING* BODY WASH AND SHAMPOO.

Good gravy! Where do I begin?!

My dad gave me free butt soap!!!

The definition of perineal is the skin in front of one’s anus. You may know it by its street name, the taint. Please imagine now the sheer look of momentary horror on my face. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

If that wasn’t enough of an introduction, the back of the bottle gave more explicit instruction.

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If you’re not already a fan of this FABULOUS multipurpose cleaner, just read: it’s “designed to dissolve fecal soils resulting from incontinence.”

Well yippy skippy! No need to rush when the urge strikes any longer! One pump of this magic and you’re fecal free fresh!

Can I get a “just clean ahhhhh!”

But if simply clean is simply not enough, there’s a lotion for that too!

Between the his and her snickering I was subjected to from the roommate and his girlfriend, I pulled a “Jerry”, shrugged, and said “It’s free.” I also reminded them it was the same brand as the lotion I gave them earlier, which prompted sock-footed running to their room to gather the other bottle.

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PROTECTS AND HELPS RELIEVE CHAPPED OR CRACKED SKIN AND LIPS. ALSO HELPS TREAT AND PREVENT DIAPER RASH!!!

Where exactly should one rub this lotion? I’m not sure I feel comfortable using the same lotion a person puts on their kid’s toucas also on my face! Though when questioned later, my dad said it’s good at preventing wrinkles.

Gee Dad, your gift was really something! I wonder what you’ll share with us next time! But be warned – this soap could end up in your “Welcome to the Nursing Home” basket!

Have you ever received a gift that was well intended, but so wrong? Did you tell the gift giver? Have you ever BEEN the shamed gift giver? How did you recover?

Father’s Day: Saying I love you, whoever you are

My Dad, who doesn't need a wheelchair, but lets his grandson push him around in one for fun! (Photo by: Kelly Witkins)

In honor of Father’s Day, I thought I’d share a story about my father with you all.  Sure, I’ve made a Top 10 List of Things My Dad Has Done To Freak Me Out, I’ve shared about our trips to the zoo where we never actually went inside the zoo, I’ve noted the time he buried me in a snowbank and left me, and about his ongoing war with rodent control, but those stories have left most of you wondering how I managed to survive in a such a household with a crazy, forgetful, prank-pulling, window banging old man?  Easy, it’s cause I knew he loved me.

My dad, for all his flaws, the primary of which is his constant failure to remember my name, loves me.  Growing up, my dad was magical, almost like Santa Clause really, which meant, you had to stay up late in order to catch him.  He worked 18 hour days cooking and managing our family restaurant, so on rare occasions when I was allowed to stay up til Dad came home, it’s only natural I had to pounce and wrestle with him to prove he was real!  My brother and I would let his exhausted body climb into bed and pull the covers up, then ransack his room with flashlights and wrestling cries, “Ash and Smash!  Ash and Smash!” until he cried “Uncle!” in surrender.

School mornings in our house began with light switches flashing and mom hollering up the steps for us to get up.  She’d make us breakfast, and Dad would drive us to school.  As he’d pull over the car and we got out with our eyes rolling, too cool for station wagons, he would always say, “I love you kids.”

After school plays or report cards came in, Dad would be so proud, “You are so smart.  How did you get to be so smart?”

When my dad later sold the restaurant and opened up a smaller cake shop, we kids would occasionally help out washing dishes, delivering cakes, spell checking his frosting messages.  He always listened, no matter how much we blathered on, which believe me I do a lot (it’s genetic).  He always acted so impressed, so proud, and always told us he loved us.

Every phone call, every get together, it’s a hug and a kiss, and “I love you, Jess.”  One of my favorite stories my dad shared with me is about his visits with my grandpa (my mom’s father) in the assisted living home near his final days.  My grandpa lived with us for a few months during his transition of declining health and changed lifestyle.  I’ll admit it was difficult at times, with an 80-something man whose only interests are baseball and westerns, it wasn’t always easy to find things to talk about, and he came from a different generation of hard farm work.  He didn’t often say please, or thank you, let alone ‘I love you.’  And then there’s my mother, who taught us manners before we could walk!

My dad would make special trips to the assisted living center, and take my grandpa on drives while he delivered cakes, spend time talking, and before he left he’d always say, “I love you, Bill.”  For months, my grandpa never said it back.  But one day, my dad and I were driving through town and he told me how he’d been telling grandpa he loved him each day, and my grandpa finally said it back, “I love you too, Jerr’.”

I think that story explains who my father is as a human being.  He is a loving, grateful, and kind-hearted man, who occasionally forgets the names of his children, but it’s ok.  We know he loves us, whoever we are.

Tell me why your father, or father figure, is special to you.

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