We had a tiny moment of excitement the other day. Okay the excitement was rather large, but the moment was very, very small. You see we had bought a couple of lottery tickets. On a whim no less. The way you do sometimes when your mind decides that the math isn’t worth figuring out the odds, and you just go ahead and a ticket or two anyway. Maybe they were bought with the faint hope of the dream; the what if followed by the then what happens kind of dream.
Anyway the tickets were bought and tucked away for safe keeping. Someplace where they wouldn’t be forgotten easily found when it came time to check the tickets. Of course when the time came neither of us could remember exactly where that safe place was. (So if you need someone to find a really good hiding spot in your house, just ask us, we will come over and hide something for you. We are totally free to set up Easter egg hunts too, heck we haven’t found the ones we put around the house last year!) But Beloved was sure he had memorized the numbers on those tickets safely tucked away somewhere. So he went off of memory, which was, up until this point, no something I would have doubted much.
And so there it was friends, as he recalled the numbers and tried to mentally match those tickets with what he read were the winning numbers, he was positive the hazy dream of a different future was going to come true for us. He yelled, he danced a small jig and then after announcing that we had a winning ticket, he proceeded to ask “or was it a 9 and not a 4”. And thus the dream froze, hanging oddly in mid-air not sure if it would float or crash hard down to the ground.
While he was dancing, he found the tickets. Actually he moved a magazine that was placed onto of the tickets, had that moment of asking the question and then decided to just check the physical tickets. And thus did our dream cease to hang in mid-air. Instead in plummeted with amazing speed until it hit the ground and kept going, down further and further with each number he read. He had not only missed one number friend he was wrong on a few.
And that’s the day youth not only passed us by, it laughed as it zipped off to some place fun. Some place it could remember. Some place I’m pretty sure we have been before, but it’s a bit fuzzy to recall right now.