I was lumbering back from the old barn yesterday morn and Mother happened to be perched on her front stoop. O'course I sat with her for a spell, just to chat. "The lottery's pretty big tonight," she comments after a few pleasantries.
"That's what I hears, yes," replies I.
She asks, seemin' to merely inquire to the air about her, "What d'the tickets cost?"
Answers I, "Two bucks each".
Mother commences to fumble through her wallet and thrusts four dollar bills at me. "When you get yours buy me two," she blithely commands. Funny, I'd naught spoken about purchasing any a'tall.
Still, then, I dutifully purchased a pair o'Powerball tickets that afternoon (what kind of boy would not do such a simple favor for his old mum?) and delivered them back to her. And she called it, I purchased me own as well. I was at the party store anyway, eh?
Perhaps she's a millionairess by now. One that knows how much her boy loves her as well too, no doubt.
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