The Thing about Credit Cards

Christmas means one credit card; everything bought is put on the almighty mastercard and the bill is paid in January.  Discovering said credit card was not in my purse Christmas Eve was bothersome but hardly a worry.  It had to be in my purse.  Discovering said credit card was still missing on December 28 was a moment of panic; my oldest child told me to calm down and methodically went through my wallet and my purse.  To be told, "It's not here," by a second person was a moment of hysteria.

Fortunately, I had been to only one store Christmas Eve: Zehrs.  But, no one had found or turned in a mastercard.  There were perplexed looks from the Zehrs staff;  why would I be looking for a misplaced credit card four days after I had noticed it missing?  One would think I would have acted sooner.  Obviously.  Over Christmas and Boxing Day.  But as so many other stay at home women know, my husband would not be happy for me to have lost a credit card and go through the nonsense of having to get another.  My husband, in particular, would not be happy for me to have lost it again in as many months.  However, to defend myself, the first loss was more of an "eaten by the washing machine" than the current panic.  But there was also a reality, besides Zehrs, I had only been to my parents' and the children and I were agreed I hadn't taken my purse into their house.  Naturally, I gave the van a thorough clearing out, a complete cleaning including under the seats and failed to find the credit card.   I should now remind everyone that in our house whoever has the van has the matriarch.

It never occurred to me that the matriarch would start to go through my purse as part of her dementia--even as I write I find it hard to believe.  However, before calling the bank, I took her for her drive and stopped to get gas.  I took the funds from my wallet and went and got the gas for the van.  When I returned, my lovely credit card was on top of my purse.  No words were said, no explanations given; just me, relieved, wondering where the mastercard had come from... it never occurred to me that my mother-in-law may have had it.  Maybe she found it under the seat while waiting for me to get gas; maybe she expected a thank you.  I don't know but when I came in and told my children, they wondered why grandma had had it.  I had made them clean the van first and I had gone through it a second time;  the card was definitely not in my purse and probably not in the van.  I can't be 100 per cent sure for which I am grateful.  My mother-in-law, the one of a few years ago, would have been mortified to know I thought she went through my purse; the one I live with is more of a curious sort...