There's a knock at the door. My wife yells at me to answer it because she doesn't have any makeup on. Expecting a door to door sales monkey, I put on my best angry face and head to the door. Instead of a poorly dressed kid trying to sell me a newspaper subscription because it's 1985, I'm greeted by some people carrying balloons (because I'm five years old) and a gigantic check. "Congratulations. You're filthy stinking rich. What are you gonna do with the money?"
"I'm moving away from that asshole next door." I reply while gesturing towards my neighbor's house.
After the hoopla ends and my wife and I are left sitting there with our jaws in our laps I begin taking into account our good fortune. What next? Oh crap. I forgot I was working today. "Hello work. I'm rich now, so I won't be working anymore. I don't think I need to tell you where you can shove this job."
We're not sitting on a pile of cash just yet since we haven't deposited that giant check so really we'd probably just go about our business as if it was a Saturday. I'd play with my son while my wife takes a look at her Amazon wish list. My guess is that our boy has some new toys on the way and maybe a Keurig so we can stop drinking powdered coffee.
I think our next step would be to make good on my first declaration. My wife would show me houses she likes but that would take awhile. It would be hard not to go on a shopping spree but I think we're pretty grounded and really indecisive so it would take us awhile to make any spending decisions.
We might hire a nanny to help out until my arm is better.
I'd go get a haircut.
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