As some of you know, I’ve been taking a cake decorating class.
I signed up for it a month or two ago on a whim. I knew that with winter coming on, I needed a reason to get out of the house during the day, lest I fall victim to my typical winter doldrums, which hit me miserably right about this time. I had never given any serious thought to cake decorating, but it sounded fun and I knew it would give me something to do other than laundry.
After finishing the first course, I liked it so much I wanted to sign up for the second, which was to continue on the same day of the week, same time. But over the weekend I received the news that there weren’t enough students continuing in the course to hold the day class – but good news, the night class was still available.
That is good news from the standpoint that I still get to attend; but I find that I dislike going out on weeknights in most cases – that is time I like to spend with Greg and the kids without rushing around after dinner and homework. Furthermore, I really wanted to get out of the house during the day so I wouldn’t go stir crazy.
Saturday morning before I left for a hair appointment, I told Greg what happened.
“How many students do they need to sign up for the class to continue?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “At least one. Maybe two.”
“So just pay for the extra spot so you can still have the day class,” he suggested.
“After all,” he joked, “we’re making all this money. We might as well spend it.”
I got in the car and thought about his offer. Tears of gratitude stung my eyes all the way to the salon. I’ve never known a man so generous. I don’t know how I managed to marry someone willing to pay double the enrollment fee for a class just so his wife could take it at a more convenient time. It must just be dumb luck.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is how I won the lottery. And I wouldn’t give it up for anything.