Funny Story...

Okay, so tonight I was at home and Matthew was at work. He calls me up on his break and asked, "Um....did you make an electronic withdraw for $75?"

75 dollars....75 dollars? Why did that sound so familiar? I usually don't spend that much money unless I'm paying bills, which I haven't done yet this month.

I gave him a long open ended "Nooooo."

"You didn't take out $75 today."

"No!" I affirmed with panic. We'd been identity thefted, I just knew it. Yesterday, going against my usual unnecessary anxiety, I made a Christmas purchase online while keeping my fingers crossed. But this time my feelings of impeding doom were dead on. It was only a matter of time before this crock drained our whole bank account.

I got off the phone with Matt and immediately called the bank. The lady said the $75 withdraw was made today to a company called HSBC. HSBC? never heard of them.

"Do you have a credit card?" she asked.

"No."

"Have you ever had a credit card?" she asked now with dry tone.

"NO," I repeated. Why wasn't she taking my urgency seriously? By now the crook was probably placing the winning bit for the entire series of "Lost" on ebay.

"Who is Matthew Roberts?" she asked to my surprise.

"My husband," I answered. How did he get involved in this? His name isn't even on the account.

"The transaction was supposedly made through him. Does he have a credit card?"

"No," I replied reassuringly.

Perhaps to reassuringly, because the "helpful" woman replied with a sigh, "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" I cried in my high pitched offended tone. "I think I know my own husband."

So I called Matt back and he was busy so he said he'd call me back. I waited the longest 20 minutes of my life. Someone sensitive to anxiety attacks cannot wait 20 minutes!

In the meantime I checked the website of this HSBC place. It was a bank, they did stocks, credit cards, all that jazz. Most of their offices were in Europe. I'm not sure if it was the writer in me, or if it was that "chemical imbalalnce" thing kicking in, but I started fabricating all these crazy possibilites as to why Matthew was involved with this company.

He's a spy. BYU is just a cover up. He's really goes to some secret goverment agency set up underground beneath the Hinkly building. (But that seemed a little far fectched, even to me.)

He was twisted up in the stock market, and didn't know how to tell me.

He has a love child somewhere and the babymama needed a little extra cash for "Christmas" i.e. get the loan sharks off her back for one more day. (Let's remember there was a 3 1/2 year period of our lives where we didn't speak.)

He somehow owed these people money for a Christmas present for me. (I liked that one.)

So FINALLY matt called back and was like, "Oh, HSBC. That's actually my bestbuy card. I remember now. I payed them yesterday."

His BestBuy card. I forgot about his BestBuy card. I shrunk down to about three inches tall.

On the brightside, it's nice to find out for sure that your husband doesn't have a secret babymama outthere somewhere.

Merry Christmas Everyone!