$3

$3.

That's enough to make me kick Wells Fargo Bank to the curb. I wouldn't necessarily have been with a big bank in the first place, but they'd bought out Wachovia, which was already kinda bulging with big city attitude even then.

$3 X 12 = $36 x 10 = $360 that I'd be paying over a decade just for the privilege of using a debit card, which I've truly loved doing for free. I could now use a dormant credit card and go online, paying it off weekly by transferring money, or I could use cash, which I don't like doing as I've been robbed too often by my own family, although that has ebbed tremendously, nearly totally ceased, thank you Lord, but I still feel uneasy with cash, especially since it takes nearly a hundred just to fill the van with gas.

And what about groceries? I drop loads there not even ever purchasing meat, sodas or crap.

Plan C is online Perk Street Bank which has a rewards system for debit card users, thank you Dave Ramsey, I just hate to go through the paperwork process, which is absolutely ridiculous of me to dread, considering the voluminous paperwork I've cranked out via the adoption world.

I best make my move by October 14th though as that's Wells Fargo's starting point. I literally hate to use a credit card, I don't even like having it in my possession, as dumb as carrying a loaded gun would be, I could accidentally shoot my big foot off, I internally despise it, even though I'd pay it off regularly, the very thought of that emotional bondage overwhelms me.

If I don't watch every $3 consumer squirt, I'd be in a mess. It ain't easy to manage with so many children, it takes a disciplined mindset, extreme budgeting, many nerdy spreadsheets that I do truly adore, and counting pennies.

CW has an orthodontist followup this morning, I have court again regarding family safety measures I'm insisting upon, Nando has a soccer game and karate practice this evening. MizCarr, one word, came by yesterday and I had delightful adult time, Chuck and some men from the church took CW, Chuy and Martin with them to that 400+ acre place where I'd ziplined last year, getting it ready for this year's family youth group gathering, the boys had a blast, dragging in late last night, happy and tired. They'd eaten some camp-out man stew of a dead bird and rice, right out of the pot.

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Driving CW to the orthodontist, Lily texted she'd forgotten to take the project she'd worked on all day yesterday. I dropped CW, ran back and took it to the school, the sweet and gorgeous Miss Debbie calling Lily over the PA system, "Oh Cindy!" Debbie exclaimed in her very heavy Tennessee accent, "Lily's just gonna die," knowing Lily is extremely shy, quiet, and does NOT like having any attention called to herself.

I ran back to get CW, treated him to a biscuit and a protein smoothie, was driving him back to the high school when the Georgia State Patrol lit me up.

What in the world?

I pulled over wondering if a brake light or something was out on my 13 year old truck, but they blew past me thankfully. Nosey bird that I am, my Iphone that I kissed in front of MizCarr yesterday to show her how much I LOVE it, has the police scanner on it, the GSP was responding to a county accident since all our deputies are patrolling the back roads to prevent break-ins. This is a bedroom county, folks leave to work in town, idiots try and break in to steal from hard-working, bill-paying, law-abiding citizens. I now have an alarm system, plus I lock my gate a lot during the day.

CW blurted, "Let 'em steal from us, then we don't have to take the broke-down stuff to the landfill."

My truck is nearly at 180,000 miles, Daniel's Jeep has 200,000. I remember when he and Grandpa had gone to buy it in Gwinnett County some 5, 6 or 7 years ago. Daniel, Jack, Jesse and Sergi were particularly close to Grandpa, Big Joe too, but he has problems showing his emotions. MizCarr reminded me yesterday that the bigger tragedy would be in NOT deeply missing those who've gone on, she surely ought to know having lost both of her parents and her husband's only child.

I reminded Jack of this thought last night, he'd had a decent day yesterday, more of his happy-go-lucky self showing through, which gives me great relief.

Gorgeous Gina brought me her compost items, nearly a weekly Sunday dump here for her, not wanting to just toss the peels and rinds into the landfill. I love her for that, and for a thousand other reasons.

"Gotta dump a deuce," Allen told me when I hollered, "Lights out," last night.

"What?" I dumbly inquired.

"Gotta take a dump, Mom," he patiently told me, as if I must've flunked Pooping 101 class, or something.

Oh, brother. How the heck does anyone expect me to be up on the cool slang?

I could use some prayer again today, over that court date as I fight to keep us safe. I dread it, it's very, very stressful even though our wonderful juvenile court judge is understanding and knowledgeable, it's still a sad and heavily emotional event for me. Some old lady stared back at me this morning in the mirror, eeuuww, the unrelenting fear and stress-filled years are sure taking a toll on me.

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And again before I could hit publish, a call from the high school, the irrepressible JoJo running his mouth super impulsively, trash talking, sitting in an administrator's office getting fussed at, have at it folks. I'm on their side, the side of the faculty and the staff, not on the side of those who'd blame teachers and other students.