How to mother a jar of coins.

Just hours ago I set off on an All-American morning of errands. Wal-mart, laminating at work and earring shopping. But first, to the bank to cash in ~2 years of Eric and my coin jar collection. It's a big jar. Like, if you think the costco bin of pretzels is a big jar, imagine it filled with coins.
Well, actually, you don't have to imagine.

Ok, off we go, the money jar and I, tucked safely under the seat next to me as we drive along, then I haul it into the bank, visible strain on my face. It's a big bank, huge lobby. The one giving us $$$$$ (+$$$$) for our house tomorrow (and the next 30 years). I should have thought more about impressions.
Well anyway, over I go to trade in my bounty only to hear a teller gently say from across the lobby "Unfortunately the coin machine is down". Surely I couldn't have heard him right. So I make eye contact with the far off voice. Yup, he's looking at me. And my coins. "But the one at the Pearl Street location is working" (this means hardly anything to me at this point, as I have safely gotten the jug this far and am not sure how much longer I can be trusted with it without a) dropping it b) it falling over while driving or c) having it stolen, admittedly not the easiest grab, but still). 
To regain my dignity I sashayed (it's hard to imagine that I sashayed given the weight of the coins, but I think I did, or tried to. Which actually might have appeared as more of a limp) right on over to Mr. Bad News and say, well as long as I'm there can I get an account balance.
Actually, I was going to do that anyway but he didn't know that!
Well I get the balance which must have seemed funny because in that account is all the money that we're paying tomorrow (plus hopefully a little extra) and that's not a little bit of money, at least to me. And then here I am with my coins.
Account with lots of money.
Jar filled with coins from between the sofa cushions.

Off we go, my coins and I, next stop Wal-Mart and I was quite unprepared for this. I'll be honest with you, we were worried (the coins and I) to leave such treasures in the car whilst I ran in for some cleaning supplies for tomorrow's Ultimate Scrubdown.
So I buried the jar, you know, under a pile of things that were in the car. I know each and everyone of you reading could also bury a jug of coins under useless car accessories. You could probably bury your children, too. So don't judge.
Well I buried my coins and did what any level-headed nervous wreck would do in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I found the nicest car I could and parked right behind that.

It was a Lexus, if you're wondering. 

Me: 1

Wal-Mart parking lot coin stealing thieves: 0

This story is getting a bit long and let me be straight with you, I'm getting sick of telling it. So here's the rest. We get to the next bank. The coin machine works! And then stops working. And then works again! So now instead of hauling around coins I'm hauling around cash which I am desperately wanting to spend on my earrings but I don't know that the Mister would really appreciate that, so I didn't. I mean, I still got my earrings so don't worry about that. 

I know you are just chomping at the bit to know what we're going to spend all that moo-la on so I'll just give you a hint.

Friday night: 

Me

My Mister

A carpet shampoo machine

and pizza hut. 

Stay tuned.