Lotto Ticket Night

In the Ruff house, even the smallest of achievements are recognized. Especially on lotto ticket night. Allow me to elaborate. On my father's 50th birthday (342,672million years ago) his sister gave him the gift of lottery tickets. Now at the time we were like, "Lotto tickets? Really?” But we have found that it was the most exciting adventure we had ever embarked on. She bought us 50 tickets. Each ticket costs a dollar. So, whatever we won, we would use toward buying more tickets. Hence was born, lotto ticket night. Whenever we would cash in our tickets for new ones, we'd all crowd around the table with excitement hoping to win more than 7 dollars. You see, that’s the thing. We, the Ruffs, are not very good at lotto ticket night. The most we've ever earned was somewhere around 37 dollars. Well, tonight was lotto ticket night, which I could not have been more excited about. In order to build suspense, I am not going to tell you how much we made. If you want to be a party pooper, go ahead and scroll down to the bottom to ruin the surprise. Go ahead. I'll wait. (Elevator/Hold Music) You back? Good. For those of you, who decided not to ruin the surprise, thank you. And I am sorry you had to sit through that horrible elevator music. Well, on with the story. Tonight, my father (who is making his "cameo" appearance in my blog) endowed me with the intense responsibility of dividing up the cards. He left and I proceeded to tear along the perforated edges, ripping cards in half and swearing under my breath. Of course my father, who my mother has deemed the drama queen, insisted that the cards were ruined. But, the rest of the family just laughed at what an incompetent dumbass I was. Time came for the first card to be scratched. I go first, because I never win anything and because I like going first. I didn’t win anything (Cash winnings so far: $0). My father stared at the card in front of him for a few hours trying to decipher that incredibly blurry language we like to call English, only to realize that the directions he was trying to read were the same ones that I had just read, and mostly based on common sense. He scratched off his card, also winning nothing (Cash winnings so far: $0). Samantha was next to scratch off. She scratched her card. "YEAA!!! THREE DOLLARS!! BIG MONEY!!" We all proceeded to cheer and high five. This is what I meant by even the smallest achievements being recognized. It is Sophie's turn. "Sophie comin 'round to save the day," she says. I tell her she needs to work on her negative self image. She scratches her card. "TWO DOLLARS BITCHES!!!" I told her that her inferiority complex was starting to worry me. You want to know what I've learned? Everything sounds more triumphant when you add "bitches" to the end of it.