Lucky Me

Two days ago I won the Lottery. Not the big one (darn it!), but our local lottery. It isn't millions, but every little bit helps. I grew up without a lot of extra's, and today, I am living paycheck to paycheck. I can pay off my mortgage, buy a new car, and give some money to family members and of course (a little) to charity. My only problem now is finding my ticket. I have been playing the same numbers for years. You know, my age (I have been 29 for a long time), my birthday, etc. I'm never home when they announce the numbers, so every day or two I check the numbers in the morning paper while drinking my first cup of coffee (one of many). I couldn't believe it when the numbers matched mine.
I ran to the refrigerator where I hang my ticket, and it was gone! I was frantic! I looked everywhere. In the garbage, under the fridge (which was a feat moving it by myself), my purse, everywhere. I sat at the kitchen table and made a list of everyone who had been in my house since I hung it on the fridge two days ago. The list was pretty short, and looking at it, I couldn't believe one of them could have taken my ticket.
I called the lottery board and informed them my ticket was stolen. They laughed, as they had had 23 other calls that day proclaiming the same thing. I hung up thinking "I'll show them when I waltz in there to claim my prize". When I find my ticket, that is. Since no one has claimed the prize yet, it could still be around here somewhere.
Looking again, I came up empty handed. I decided to invite everyone over to find out who the guilty party might be. I called and invited them over for dinner, and all but John accepted. He's my neighbor, and a pretty good guy (or so I thought). Right then, I decided it must have been him who took the ticket. If the big fat theif didn't come forward tonight, I will barge over there tomorrow and demand he return it. Minus John, my guests this evening will include my sister Tami, her fiance Jack, and Stan, the repairman. He was here to fix my dishwasher and I had to do some pretty fancy talking to get him over here this evening without coming out and accusing him of taking my ticket.
I went to the store to get this evening's meal, plus a lottery ticket. Who knows, maybe lightning will strike twice and I can win again.
When I got home, I kicked off my shoes, and put my house shoes on. I unpacked the groceries and threw together a stew. I was too antsy to fix anything fancy. Again, I went over the house with a fine toothed comb, looking for my ticket. No luck. I was hoping to find it before everyone arrived. I was not looking forward to accusing my family and friends of being theives.
My guests arrived at the appointed hour. As they entered, I looked each of them over to see if I could spot the guilty party. Stan immediately headed to the dishwasher to check water flow (it was all I could think of to get him over here). I had them sit in the loving room and explained to them that dinner would be served shortly.
I called a bewildered Stan in to sit with us and offered them a drink and a snack. I sat back in my chair and put my feet up on the coffee table and started to explain the real reason I asked them over. Of course, I didn't flat out say there was a thief in our presence, but gently asked them if they remembered seeing my lottery ticket on the fridge. At this point in my accusations, no one came forth and confessed to having my ticket. I had not yet told them it was a winner and was hoping to have it back in my hot little hands before anyone knew.
As I went on and on about where my ticket might be, and that I coudn't believe that someone (not to mention any names) might have taken it, they were looking at each other, smirking and looking like they couldn't hold back their laughter any longer. I demanded to know what was so funny. My sister reached over and pulled something off the bottom of my shoe. You guessed it. My ticket had been stuck to the bottom of my shoe all along. I looked at each of them, my face burning with humiliation. How could I have thought one of them could have taken my ticket? Everyone broke out into laughter, as I sat there stunned, holding the winning ticket in my hand. It took them a couple minutes to quiet down, so I could explain to them why I had been so frantic, and a little looney, about my missing ticket.
After copious amounts of congratulations and a round of "For She's A Jolly Good Fellow", we went in to eat our dinner. They assured me they weren't offended by my actions, or the meal, and would have done the same thing, had they been in my shoes. I promised them with my winnings, we would all go out the following week, and I would treat them, even Stan the repairman (who was looking kinda cute tonight), to an expensive dinner. I felt it was the least I could do for them, having to eat this poormans stew, and for what I put them through this evening.
The next day, I called in sick to work and took off for the lottery office to claim my prize. I remembered them laughing at me for calling and telling them my ticket was stolen. I couldn't wait to get there to collect my winnings, though I wouldn't be sharing my story with them on its whereabouts when found. They would laugh harder at this than the laughter my first phone call elicited. On my way back home, with my check in my purse, I thought, "Lucky Me!".
The End