Sunday mornings are always bliss but today I’m feeling even luckier than normal.
I was gently woken by the chatters of my perfect baby boy, served cake and coffee for breakfast by my gorgeous husband, watched the two of them play and giggle at each other and just laid back, still in bed, admiring the gorgeous view that is our life.
And then I remembered our lottery ticket. The lucky dip for Saturday’s rollover. £19m. More money than we’d ever know what to do with. Typing the numbers on my ticket into the online lotto results checker I had a little day dream to myself about what we’d spend the money on. A new house. A family holiday. A bigger car. A crisp new wardrobe.
I pressed ‘enter’ and waited for all of our dreams to come true. And then I realised, they already have.
We didn’t win the lottery but we are rich beyond our wildest dreams. We don’t have the money to buy a mansion but we have a roof over our heads (and a roof I’m very fond of). We can’t afford a holiday but every day is a fun-filled new adventure. Our cars are tiny, old and have thousands of miles on the clock but they’re miles that we put there travelling to see people we love or places that make us happy. My wardrobe is tatty and most of the time covered in sick but I wouldn’t change that for the world.
I have a kind, devoted, loyal husband. I have a healthy, cheery baby boy. And we have an amazing family who support us, make us laugh and go out of their way to spend their time with us. Hell, I have leftover birthday cake for breakfast! What more could I possibly ask for? Except maybe a glass of something cold and sparkling to wash it down…
Perhaps I’m on a cake induced sugar high but lying in bed watching my baby boy snore and my hubby pop his head round the door to make sure we’re OK, I am so deliriously, heart burstingly happy that I feel like the richest woman in the world.
Our bank balance might make us look “poor” but I’m a billionaire in the only ways that really matter.