You Got Any Bucks?

The other night, Captain Cavedweller and I went out for dinner. After placing our orders, I ran into the restroom to wash my hands only to find a little blond-haired pixie, who couldn’t have been more than 5, standing on her tiptoes splashing in the sink.

She eyed me when I came in and continued flailing water around the sink. Finally, she stretched up and turned off the faucet, pulled out a wad of paper towels and played at drying her hands.

Continuing to keep an eye on me she finally threw her towels in the garbage, put her tiny hands on her hips and gave me a once over.

“You got any bucks?” she asked.

Completely convinced I misheard her, I begged her pardon.

Apparently no one has ever done that before, because she looked at me in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” I said, leaning down¬† toward her. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

“You got any bucks? You know, money,” the little imp said.

“No, I don’t have any money,” I said, telling the truth since my purse was safely tucked away at the table with CC.

“Are you sure? You better check your pockets,” she said, taking a step forward.

Fearful she might decide to check my pockets for me, I showed her all they contained was some lint.

“Where’s your bucks?” she asked, growing concerned by the fact I didn’t even have a dime on me.

“Back at my table,” I said, wondering what type of parent turned this little robber baron loose in the restroom let alone hadn’t taught her any manners.

“Oh,” she said, then sashayed out the door.

With a sigh of relief that my interrogation had ended, I walked back to our table and informed CC that all the precocious child needed was a boy named Clyde and a get-away tricycle.

She Who Hasn’t Got Any Bucks in Her Pockets

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