Sweepstakes and Such

Scanning the paper yesterday, I see an article about a local family winning $20,000 worth of cool electronic gadgets.  I knew these people!  My Youngest Son is close friends with their middle daughter.  In fact, her family and ours co-hosted the kids’ graduation party because they had so many of the same friends.  And Youngest Son was also on the high school soccer team with their youngest son, and watches their dog for them when they go away.  So I was surprised that even though they received all this stuff before Christmas, I never heard anything about it.  I mean, it’s not “need to know” stuff, but you’d think my son would mention it sometime.  We do talk.  So when I texted him to ask him if he knew about them winning all this stuff, he said “No.”  But here it was plastered all over the front page of the local section of our newspaper.  Good thing one of the prizes was a security camera.

I hate to admit it, but when I was reading about all the awesome stuff they won, my first thought was “How come I never win anything?”  I enter sweepstakes.  It doesn’t consume my life, but I’ve been know to register for the HGTV Dream House, or pick through those tedious Publisher’s Clearing House mailings.  After I thought about it, I was happy that at least these people that won are nice, generous, and deserving people.  If not me, at least not some waste of life.  I have an aunt, and I swear, she’d rather see someone like Charles Manson win than someone from my mom’s family.  You can see the grimace behind the forced smile when some bit of luck befalls our family and not hers.  It’s not that she doesn’t like us; she worries about us if something bad happens.  She just doesn’t want us to get too far ahead of her little family.

Coincidentally, today I received a follow-up to the latest Publishers Clearing House entry I sent.  It has more numbers, and more garbage to send in.  Big Daddy asked why it was addressed to me.  Actually, it was addressed to Mrs. Thomas BigDaddy, you know, like I have no first name of my own.  Some older women actually prefer to be addressed that way, but I prefer Ms. to Mrs.  And then followed by my first name.  I did finally break down and decide to use the husband’s last name, without a hyphen even.  It’s just easier that way.  And there are less jokes that can be made with his name.  But I’ll tell you one thing, if I win that big prize check, they can write my name any way they want!

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