Jenny and I recently did a very adult thing. We started a joint bank account. Then, we learned the bank couldn’t add her in. Luckily we did add her to my existing account rather easily after an hour of the woman apologizing continuously for taking so long.

So, now we have two accounts in separate places like some lame spy or unfaithful husband.

Joint bank accounts are vital in a marriage. This is especially true in our case as we’ll need to prove our relationship is real to the government.

When you’re young, a joint bank account is loose change you use to buy drug paraphernalia. As an adult it’s a sign you’re willing to open up someone to see all of your expenses. Wait until Jenny finds out they made an Ebony Mistresses 5!

Adding Jenny to my bank account should’ve been easier. In total I’ve talked with three bankers to get everything we needed to prove this relationship is real. The most recent was a woman Jenny is convinced was part mole.

And for good reason…

The banker was old, had a pointed nose, and walked with limp wrists similar to a rodent. Her voice was very mole-like, too. In actuality, she was just an older woman from New York. Since rats do outnumber people in the Empire State, it’s quite possible we were dealing with a very large one of the species.

Jenny had never encountered monstrosities like this before. Thankfully, I was there to keep her safe.

The mole lady was especially unhelpful compared to the other bankers I spoke with. The one, who knows me by name because he really likes me (or sees my pay stubs), is actually Filipino. As soon as I told him my wife was also from the Philippines we rejoiced about his native land.

Unfortunately I’ve never been underground. Connecting with the mole lady like this was impossible.

We successfully did add Jenny to one account. We’ll soon have her on the other. Unlike the electric bill, hopefully they spell her name right and don’t randomly change our address. Who knew the power company literally had the power to change where you live?

Now it’s only a matter of time before Jenny and I fight about money. You know, like a normal married couple.