Word Problems VI

About a year ago, the Runaway Mama organized all of the baby supplies, toys, and clothing collecting dust in her house and brought them to a local consignment store. Consignment Mama!  She was (not surprisingly) lazy about checking in with the consignment store to see if her stuff sold.  She remembered calling the store once and was told she had about $40 on her account.  That was a long time ago so there must have been a lot more money by now, maybe even enough to afford a shirt at Anthropologie!  (Shopaholic Mama!)

A few weeks ago, when the Runaway Mama finally remembered to call the consignment store to ask for her check, they told her she had zero dollars in her account.  “How could that be?” asked the Runaway Mama.  Then the woman on the phone explained to her that it was their policy to clear accounts after one year.  Oh.  After hanging up the phone, for how long did the Runaway Mama want to bang her head against a wall?

It’s been more than two weeks and the feeling hasn’t gone away.

For how many minutes does the Runaway Mama need to be alone with a not-quite-house-trained puppy, her own dog, and her two kids before realizing she’s – as Riley would say – so not ready to get a puppy no matter how much fun it would be to finally name a girl?

Ten minutes.  My sister-in-law left with me with her new puppy, Jake, while she ran a quick errand.  He was perfect the whole time, but the energy it took to keep track of his every move and sniff and to make sure he didn’t mistake Dylan’s Star Wars figures for chew toys all the while serving at the pleasure of my adorable but demanding children was exhausting.  No, I’m so not ready for a puppy.  My little Gertie will have to wait.

What’s the probability – regardless of the time of day, the weather outside, or the ruling political party in Congress – that each and every time you ask Riley, “What’s the magic word?” his answer will be, “Abracadabra, please and thank you.”  

100%.

Grandma Irene sent the boys $25 Toys R Us gift cards to celebrate graduation. That meant the boys could buy new toys and the Runaway Mama didn’t have to contribute anything.  Not a single penny.  Yah!  Not so fast.  The Runaway Mama left Toys R Us with the following: a BeyBlade Extreme Top System Stadium ($12.99), a BeyBlade Extreme Top ($12.99), a Marvel Super Hero Adventure Playset ($34.99), and a LeapPad Carrying Case ($12.99).  Including the $50 in gift cards, how much did the free trip to Toys R Us cost The Runaway Mama?

$23.96 plus tax.  However, getting out of the toy store in less than an hour with no crying, fighting, pee and/or poop accidents, whining about riding the creepy Elmo car near the exit (50 cents per ride), or begging for candy and crap from the candy and crap machines near the exit (25 cents for each piece of candy and crap) was PRICELESS.