Of all the fights to have in the confines of an 18 hour car trip, how to sensibly spend our fake half a billion lottery winnings is my favorite.
It always starts off innocently enough. We agree we’d keep it a secret and claim it anonymously, I mean, I’ve seen Brewster’s Millions, and the last thing I need is crazy people trying to sell me glaciers. Like those even exist anymore!?
After we considered taxes, and what we’d divvy out to our parents and best friends, it became obvious that we had very different visions for our future.
I was all, but where would we live? And, Andy doesn’t even care. He’s all, I don’t know, bunches of places.
But, what about the kids’ school?
They can go to school anywhere.
Can we have livestock?
Do you want livestock?
I’d like the option, I’m really feeling tiny goats right now. Fainting ones. With tiny gold grills in their mouths instead of teeth.
But then, it just got worse. Besides not wanting tiny fainting Lil’ Wayne goats, it’s painfully obvious that fake money is making Andy selfish.
I’d really like to get one of those vintage Land Rovers, the kind that kill whole rainforests every time I do school drop off.
I’d buy a Maserati Quattroport.
Um, you can’t put 3 car seats in a Maserati Quattroport.
Why would I put car seats in a Maserati?
Oh, so you get rich and decide not to be a father anymore? This is how Paris Hilton happens.
It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time.
Who would you have in your rich guy entourage?
I don’t know, probably Marky, Barry, Shane, the guy from Carlito’s Way…
Yeah, and somebody awesome, like Chuck Norris.
But, he’s a republican?
Bottom line, money changes people, and it can’t buy happiness… unless happiness is hundreds of tiny goats.