Local Woman Forced to Apologise for Misbehaviour in Toddler's Dream

So I was awakened this morning at the unGodly hour of 6.45am by a little Mickey Mouse voice in my ear.

Mama! Can you please say sorry to me? You have to say sorry.

What?

You took my eggs. In my dream. You took my eggs away.

What?!

I had a bad dream. You took my eggs away. You must say sorry.

Oh. Sorry about that.

I'm still sad.

Sorry. Come, let me give you a hug.

Ok. Can I watch TV now?

*******

In other news, I was reminded the other day of the wonders of modern banking. I waddled into the bank in my full third trimester glory one baking hot afternoon to extract some bank statements and other miscellaneous things, then queued patiently with everyone else till I got to my turn.

Only to be told - I'm sorry you can't get the bank statements here. You have to call our Hotline.

But I'm here, at the branch. Isn't there a way for me to get the statements here? I can wait.

No, we cannot get these for you here. You have to call the Hotline.

Then she paused, as she realised that I was so hot and bothered that I might deliver the baby at the foot of her counter.

In a more concessionary voice, she said, perhaps you can use our phone to call the Hotline. I will dial for you.

Which is fine by me, in terms of service. So I get a nice little booth with a chair and a phone, she dials into the Hotline for me, which is when I discover that bank officers get into the Hotline phone queue just like everyone else. She passes the phone to me, and I spend another five minutes pressing 1, 2, 3, 4 or 0. Finally reach a human and make my request for some bank statements, which must be really quite an unusual one, because I'm told:

Sorry ma'am, we cannot help you. You have to write in.

At that point, a mushroom shaped cloud appeared above my head.

Ok, said I to the poor Hotline person. Here's the situation. I am AT the bank now. They asked me to call the Hotline. I am now on the phone with you, while still AT the bank, and now you are saying that I may have to go back to my office to WRITE IN, to THE BANK. Is this correct? Why do I have to go back to my office to WRITE IN, when I am IN the bank and also ON THE PHONE with the bank's hotline? Can't you take my word for it that I need the statement?

Rage makes me speak in UPPER CASE; I probably sound very Dick and Jane.

In the end, the Hotline spoke with the Bank Officer and between them they made sympathetic noises to each other, and Bank Officer put down the phone before asking me to please write in, as nobody - NOBODY - had the power to process my request at that point without any written authorisation from me. But as a concession to the customer, they would provide me with a piece of blank paper, a pen and a desk from which I could prepare my written authorisation, and thereafter they would fax it out to the right person. I was made to understand that it would take at least 7 working days to process my request. I think this is probably because the relevant department is located 7 leagues below the sea, and since it's monsoon season, it would take a while for the Bank's seamen/ voyagers/ adventurers/ deep sea divers, bearing my handwritten request, to reach them after braving all the sea creatures.

I'm almost completely certain I could have gotten my bank statement faster in the 1920s, when there was no Hotline/ fax/ internet banking, just courier pigeons and morse code. It would also not have cost me S$25 by way of an administration fee.