Our goal is to explore something each day while our schedules are slower. So, for our adventure today, the girls and I decided to plug in the address to the bank. We made our way to the other side of town and found the bank. I filled out the slips, handed it to the teller and waited for her to double check my math. To distract the girls from their impending boredom, I thought it would be a good idea to get them interested in a counting game. We counted to the bank tellers. We counted the computers. We counted the “this window closed” signs. We counted the money counter machines. We counted the cameras. At this point I began to wonder if the employees were considering me and my lunch-stained preschoolers a potential threat to their safety. Don’t all bank robbers take inventory of the possible items to confiscate or demolish before they strike? (This has absolutely nothing to do with my point, other than the fact that my kids were involved.)
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the teller came back with my receipt. My youngest asked if she could have a sucker. (We also counted the sucker storage devises in our game, so we KNEW they had them!) So, I asked her to ask the teller if she could have one. She looked at the teller and said,
“Can I have a sucker please?”.
And with the biggest, most sincere smile in all history, the teller looked at me and asked me what she was talking about. Like an idiot, I repeated the child’s question, “she’d like to have a sucker, please.”
Again, big-smiling-teller, still had no idea what we were asking for. Then it clicked. Perhaps we are using Virginia lingo in a Connecticut bank. If so, we have just sounded like the biggest hicks ever to arrive this far north successfully. I quickly flipped through my mental thesaurus and grabbed another term.
“Oh, sure!” said the bank teller with the big smile.
Connecticut vernacular lesson #1: Assume the term “sucker” means something other than the sweet confection on a paper stick. Use “lollipop” next time.