This story really begins over a year ago.
It was winter and I had mercifully scored a lift to our preschool fundraiser which was being held at the local bowling club. It was a trivia night and anyone who knows me will appreciate the lure this kind of evening has over my ego. Once upon a time I was semi-regular at trivia nights and more casual board games at the dining table. I even got on a television show once.
So I sat at a table with friends and settled in for a fun time.
My undoing came at the hands of all the tempting items on display around the walls of the room – silent auction prizes beginning from humble crafty fare to some big ticket items. Between rounds I went and put my name down on the few things I was really keen on winning before heading back to sit down again.
Then the alcohol hit my bloodstream and I started going overboard, bumping up my bids, daring others to keep up with me. I did this until about ten minutes before the auction was set to close, thinking that in the mad final rush I’d be outdone and I could congratulate myself on helping do my bit to get more money for the preschool.
When that bell rang, I was feeling pretty self-satisfied – a feeling that lasted about five minutes.
Before long members of the fundraising committee were dropping winning receipts on to the table; they rained down like papery butterflies. Most were for me. As they kept coming, I dropped lower and lower into my seat, my friends whooping once they realised what was happening. Once they all arrived I slumped off to the tallying room where the president sat with a trusty calculator and a cheeky, knowing smile on her face.
“I hope you brought your cheque book with you,” she said, totting up the balance, laughing. “You’re going to need it.”
*
This year at preschool we didn’t have a trivia night. We had a fete – with a silent auction. I stayed well away, crossing my fingers at it, to ward of the temptation. Keira, on the other hand, got the bug and kept coming over to me to say, “Mum, look! That’s only five dollars!” or “We can’t let them get it!”
I kept saying no, right up until the very end. There was a pink crockery set that had had no bids. Zero. The bell was about to ring and Keira begged permission, promising to pay for a potential win out of her own pocket money.
I relented.
She wrote down one dollar.
The bell rang.
She won.
This is her face at the exact moment she realised it was hers.
We’re now the proud owners of a very pink cup and saucer set. All for the bargain price of one dollar.
DULY NOTED!
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