I buy a lottery ticket about once every blue moon. This past weekend, I bought two and handed one to my husband.
It wasn’t one of those scratch-n-sniff ones, it was a Classic Lotto, and today, I find that last night’s drawing planted the Money Tree in someone else’s back yard. That’s probably for the best. The few times I’ve been flush I just burned right through it, anyway.
Unless, that is, my husband holds the winning ticket, in which case I am rather quickly going to go buy an inappropriate car and acquire a taste for fancy clothes. As I’ve told my brother, who is far more financially successful than I: Few things are uglier than a hillbilly with cash.
…but my husband left this a.m. to go to New York City…he looked really happy, too…and he’s not returning my calls….dang it!
UPDATE: Mr. DJ is in contact. He left the lottery ticket on his dresser at home. I’ll wait and let him check to see if it’s a winner. All is well.