What Would I Do For A Million Dollars?

It seems that this blog is quickly becoming less about what you all can do for me, and more about me proving my love and devotion to all of you. I’m trying not to get disgruntled. No one likes an old disgruntled hag, after all.

But, I digress, again. Amy has asked a favor of me, and I am now convinced that her holiday gifts of pornographic retro calendars, pirated software and minty gourmet baked goods were merely bribes for favors to be cashed in later. I have no doubt this is only the first of more favor requests to come.

Sorry, again with the digressing.

Amy asked me to write about “What I would do for a million dollars”. It’s apparently good-cause worthy or something. I figured, what the hell – I’m always up for a good post about money and me having more of it. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to link here or here.

So, dear readers, after the world’s longest literary introduction, I present to you…

What Would Miss Britt Do For One Million Dollars?

As I began to think of this, I ran through the most obvious and often posed options first. Would I lose a limb? Would I dye my hair green? Would I go through x amount of time without x-beloved item/habit?

And over and over again I found myself coming to the same conclusion:

Fuck yes I would! It’s a MILLION dollars. Do you know what I could DO with a million dollars?!?! Do you know what I could turn a million dollars into?!?!

It seems that rather than thinking of what I would do for One Million Dollars, it would be less time consuming and more thought provoking to contemplate what I wouldn’t do for a million dollars.

I can only think of one thing that I would never, for any amount of money or fame or public adoration, surrender or sacrifice for a million dollars: my family.

My husband and my two children. Probably my siblings. Possibly my parents – although, it stands to reason that they will probably die before me anyway so that could just be a fiscally irresponsible sacrifice anyway…

But seriously – my husband and my two kids. I would not trade them for millions or billions or bill-gateish amounts of dollars.

Although, as soon as I say that I realize that I do trade them – time with them, memories with them, hugs and kisses and laughs with them – for far less than a million dollars, almost every single day.

Five days a week I get out of bed, put on my clothes, and pack my children off to be nurtured and loved by someone else. I kiss my husband on the cheek and send him off with a thermos of hot coffee to console him during a day spent pursuing the American Dream. And then I get in my car, drive twenty minutes, and spend the next eight hours chasing my own Piece Of The Pie.

And I don’t do it because I don’t love them, adore them even. In fact, I do it – my husband and I both do it – because we do love them. I do it because I never want them to know the disparity of poverty or the claustrophobia of no choices.

On a weekly basis, I spend more time away from my kids and my husband than I do with them. And I do it for money.

So, damn. If I can do that… if I can give up the ones that I value above all else, simply for a chance to give those same people a chance at freedom and experience and maybe seeing more of this great big world… than it seems there really is no limit to what I would do for a million dollars.

Because no heinous act, no humiliating public display, no moral dilemma over this one or that, could ever compare to the searing pain that rips through your heart as you close the door on your toddler’s cries for her Ma! Ma! Or the crestfallen look on your school ager’s face as you wake him with goodbyes, and he realizes that grown-ups do not get to enjoy Winter Vacations.

What would I do for a million dollars? A million dollars that could ensure that I would never hear those cries or see that disappointment again – at least, not because of my own actions?

Yeah, just about anything. Try me.

In writing, preferably.

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About the Author: Becky