The Millionaire
We were at CPK on Friday night, and while we were eating at the counter, we were watching the Utah-Utah St. game."Dad, do you want to bet a million dollars on this game?" Eli 11.1 asked.
"Who are you taking?" I asked.
"Utah St.," he said. Utah had won the last 11 meetings between the two teams.
"Okay, I'll take Utah," I said. "But don't bet me your first million."
"My FIRST million?" he asked, laughing.
"I have no doubt that you will make a million dollars," I said. "But making two million dollars is much tougher. What if you make a million dollars and owe it all to me?"
"Ooh, I see your point," he said.
"So let's bet," I said, "but I won't take your first million. Let's say I take your fourth million--AFTER taxes. That's about your seventh million."
"Thanks for that, Dad," he said, smiling.
Utah proceeded to play like THEY were the team who hadn't won in the last 11 meetings, and they wound up losing an agonizing game in overtime. The game ended after Eli 11.1 went to sleep.
Needless to say, I lacked the funds to cover the bet.
Saturday morning, 7 a.m.
"Somebody's a millionaire!" Eli 11.1 said as he opened our bedroom door to wake me up.
"Well, let's find one more game," I said. "Double or nothing."
"No way!" He said, laughing.
"Come on," I said. "A million dollars won't last long. Expenses add up."
"I'm not falling for that," he said.
I came downstairs and we watched Sportscenter for about 30 minutes. Normally, we'd go hit at the golf range on Saturday morning, but it was so windy that we decided to stay and play baseball in the cul-de-sac instead.
"How long do you want to play?" he asked.
"However long you want," I said. "After all, you're paying $1,000 a minute."
"WHAT?"
"You're a millionaire now," I said. "Things get expensive."
"Come on!" he said, laughing.
I'm a little worried about Eli being able to manage all the things he wants to do this fall. He has flag football on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday he has hockey. Saturdays: 7:15 a.m., leaving for breakfast at 6:20. Ugh.
Having that schedule and managing schoolwork is going to be tough. He's well-organized for his age, and he's very motivated to stay on top of it, but even so, it won't be easy. If he can just survive to the end of October, though, flag football ends and life will get less complicated.
We played tennis on Sunday morning, and I used to think that he wouldn't be able to beat me until he was 14, but after yesterday, I'll be lucky to hold him off until he's 12. I weigh more than twice as much as he does, but he hits the ball just as hard as I do, and he's much, much faster.
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