A bit o’ history. My mother is extremely lucky. During her lifetime she has won many prizes in various drawings, including one large doll, not one, but two 21-inch televisions (in separate drawings), and a 1931 Ford A-Model – an honest-to-goodness antique car that probably financed a good bit of my college education when it was sold.
Needless-to-say, I’ve always tried to get her to buy a lottery ticket. While living in Arizona a decade ago, I at least got her to give me numbers, and I had her breathe on the ticket, but it didn’t work. Tonight on our way back from Caro-Mi I decided it was time for more drastic measures. Powerball is at $179 million, so it was worth a shot. We stopped at a Little Cricket convenience store in between Landrum and Campobello. I walked in with my mother and gave her $2 for tickets. She wanted me to hang onto the money and pay the man, but I insisted that the money must pass from her hands to the cashier for the two Quick Picks. She then wanted to give me the ticket. Again, I insisted that she keep in until after the drawing, or the mojo just wouldn’t work.
Call me foolish. Call me superstitious. Just don’t call me tomorrow morning when you find out I’m a multi-millionare.