If only…
Over the years, as the lottery phenomenon has grown, I have developed a recurring fantasy of what I would do with a sudden influx of money. When I was younger, the fantasy included a new car, huge house, and extravagant gifts for all my friends and family. As I got older, I dreamed of starting a foundation that would end, once and for all, at least one world crisis. Travel was on the top of both lists. All over the world and never in coach class again.
Something happened recently to upend my priorities. Actually it was a series of things that acted like running water eroding my high standards of what constituted living well. In fact, it actually WAS running water.
If I ever win the lottery, or in any other way come into a huge bundle of cash, my only wish is never to smell urine again. Not human, not dog, not cat. No more scent of wet beds in the middle of the night. No more incontinent pets. No more boy children with bad aim who really should try harder. No more, “I forgot to tell you I accidentally got pee on the sofa and now it smells horrible.” No more adorable puppies peeing on my shoe. (That really did happen.)
When you see a picture of me holding up a comically huge check for $130,000,000, don’t come with your hand held out unless that hand is holding air freshener or a Clorox wipe. And for goodness sake, if you win the lottery, please don’t use your winnings to buy my children large drinks late at night, or I will be calling your new full-time housekeeper to clean up the mess.
Let me clear this up for everyone. While it is true that guys will –on occasion– pee on things that were never intended the be peed upon, the perception that men have terrible aim when standing at a toilet is a huge misconception. Have you seen how much time we spend playing video games, golf or hunting? We have great aim. Humanity would not existing if we didn’t have excellent aim… we would have all starved to death centuries ago.
Here’s the truth of the matter: the human penis is a leaky instrument. That’s why you might find a few drops of the offending liquid on or near the toilet. If we couldn’t actually hit the toilet at all it would be much, much worse.
All that being said… don’t ask me to explain the pee on the sofa. That wasn’t me.
I do hope Mary wins the lottery. If she does, no doubt the world will become a better (cleaner?) place. In the meantime, dear Mary, try not to be too pissed off;-)