The Beautiful Kind

The other day my baby sister, who still lives with my parents, needed a clean pair of socks, so she helped herself to a pair from my mom’s sock drawer. She put them on and walked down the hall, and was puzzled to feel something crinkling in them. She stopped to check and found $700 in cash in one of the socks.

I am dreading the day when my mom dies, but am also very intrigued to go on a treasure hunt in her bedroom, much less the rest of the house. It’s interesting to consider how much value can be found in the mounds of crap everywhere. It would be terribly foolish to just toss out the piles of laundry and stacks of precariously balanced books, file folders, and garbage glutting the path from her bed to the bathroom.

For instance, she collects “black” quarters. This is a jar of tarnished quarters. She also has a bunch of bicentennial quarters scotch taped together. In a recipe box, she keeps a wad of $2 bills. Her bra drawer has a pile of half dollars. She stashes cash in things like books and pill bottles and then forgets about them, like a giant squirrel.

My siblings and I will have our work cut out for us, that’s for sure. And if you’re thinking of tracking down my parent’s house and cleaning up yourself, get your shots first and be mindful of the menacing Puerto Rican Shepherd guard dog. In other words, if you’re going to spend exploring my parent’s house, you need to prepare as if you’re about to travel to Africa.