Today is D Day.
D for DarlingDaughter's Departure.
This event has been a dream, and then a plan for many months, - but among the women of this household there is a world of difference between plans and concrete preparations.
Thus it was that on Monday of last week, DD went into the bank to arrange her funds for the trip. After some discussion, she and the advisor decided that the safest and most sensible option was for DD to take out a credit card which she would use only while she was abroad, and which we would pay off in full from her account each month, to avoid any interest charges. This seemed preferable to the alternatives of using her ATM card and incurring charges for its use abroad, or carting around alot of traveller's cheques, which always feels like a bit of a risk.
She is very wary of credit cards, having seen me worry about them over the years, so I was quite happy with this decision. I really do trust her to cut up the card on her return home.
Only, we've just had the May Day Bank Holiday here...offices closed, no postal deliveries....and the card, which was promised as a priority has not arrived. And there is nothing to be done. No option of traveller's cheques on the spot. She has a small, survival-only, sum in Bhats, and her cash-card and that's it.
I'm trying really really hard not to panic, but now more than ever I feel as if I'm sending her off to seek her fortune with all her worldly goods done up in a bundle over her shoulder. That might sound romantic, but to a neurotic mother in in Charlton Kings it feels absolutely terrifying.
Drat, blast and bother that bank,- and indeed the last-minute gene that DD has inherited from her mother. It's all absolutely fine until the day that it isn't,- 2nd May, 2006 springs to mind.