1 cent richer

My day just improved ten fold.

I found a penny in my desk. The old sports editor must have left it behind.

When I picked up the penny, a 1993 one-cent piece, I started to get excited. I haven’t found any money for a long time.

Sure a penny here and there, maybe a dime or two but nothing substantial.

I have to go back to when I was seven. I was in Zellers in Rocky Mountain House.

There was a 20-dollar bill lying on the ground. I froze with delight. I couldn’t believe it. My imagination roared to life at all the possibilities.

I picked it up and told my mom. She asked me what I was going to do with all that cash.

I ended up buying two Heman toys, and still had some capital to spare.

The rest went to what I believe as the beginning of my pixie stick problem.

This penny, this 1993 penny, made me remember the good old days. $20 could buy you two toys with enough pocket change to rot out your baby teeth.

I think I’ll put this penny in my left shoe and hope for the best from the rest of the day.
It should be good I’m going bowling. I’m going bowling. Ya-hoo.