Dumpster Divers

On Saturday we drove to the bank and both Frank and I had a few Christmas checks to deposit. I opened my wallet and realized that the check from Frank's Nana (which was for the whole family) was gone. After a lot of "You probably just left it at home" and some "No. I know I put it in here!" we gave up for the time being, vowing to look for it later.

We both knew that we HAD to find that check.

It's not that we couldn't pay our mortgage without Nana's Christmas money. It's because we couldn't tell Nana that we screwed up. Again.

See, earlier this year Nana called and said she was sending a savings bond to Leo for his birthday. It never arrived. Nana said she sent it. We say we never received it. Nana had to go to a lot of trouble with the bank to get a new savings bond and some form for us to fill out.

After we settled all that Nana called and said, "And by the way, did you ever get the card I sent Leo for his birthday? It had a check in it."

Ah! We never got that either.

"Well, what is going on here, ELSA?" Nana asked.

Panicked, I checked Leo's baby book where I had put all the cards. I don't think I really wanted to find that check because that would mean I was WRONG--that the check had arrived and I hadn't acknowledged it. Boy was I relieved when a card that read "for my dear great grandson" was from Great Grandma Val.

Nana ended up having to go to more trouble to send Leo a new check.

So, needless to say, Nana hasn't been very pleased with our ability to receive monetary gifts from her.

And that brings me back to why we HAD to find that check.

I was convinced it had simply fallen out of my wallet when I went to pay for something. Frank was convinced that I had inadvertently thrown it away while tossing out receipts.

I agreed that Frank's opinion was possible so I moved some things on the top of the kitchen trash around before saying, "Gross!" and washing my hands like a maniac.

Frank, however, started to take everything out of the trash can and throw it onto the floor! I looked on, horrified, as he threw out banana peels, dirty paper towels and rotten vegetables. I grabbed a garbage bag and said, "At least we could put it into a new bag and not on the floor." He dug in silence as I fought the urge to gag.

The whole time I kept thinking, "He's doing this to punish me. He's mad that I always throw things away. Like sometimes I throw away junk mail and it turns out to be Leo's college savings account statement or a credit card bill. He's trying to prove a point!"

And just when I thought it couldn't get any grosser, he announced, "Well, it's not in this trash can. I'll get the trash from the garbage can in the garage and we can go through that."

EWWWWW!!

He brought it in the house and even though he was using my "new bag" system, a lot ended up on the floor.

When it didn't turn up in that garbage he calmly headed off to bed. Oh, did I mention it was midnight? I was so mad at Frank that he insisted on digging through the trash just to teach me a lesson that I banged the Swiffer around as I cleaned up the floor.

"I'm sooooo mad at you!!" I said, when I came to bed.

"Why?" he asked. And he seriously didn't know.

"Because you made us dig through all that garbage just to teach me a lesson!!"

"What? Haven't you ever dug through the garbage to find something?"

"No!"

"Oh, I have! We did it every year in my family. It was usually around Christmas. We lost money or a check and we'd have to dig through the garbage. You're telling me you've really never done that?"

How could I be mad at a guy who thought that dumpster diving was routine?

I planned to call Nana on Sunday. I had no idea what I was going to say.

But luckily, the money gods were smiling on me because we found (well, Frank found) the check on the floor of my car the next day.

We may be dumpster divers but we're a little bit richer now.