wealth

I grew up poor. 

More than once, I lived in a trailer.  My family's nicest home was a tract house in a low-income subdivision.  My dad was a trucker; my mom a motel maid. 

I remember getting a ride home from a very nice boy that I really, really liked and telling him not to drive down my driveway.  I didn't want him to see the bright blue trailer we lived in my senior year.  I told him I didn't want his car to get muddy.  He laughed, "So you should get muddy instead?"  It was a John Hughes moment and I was Molly Ringwald. 

I vowed to be more than that.  I'm not.  

So far.

I got the dreamer gene from my folks, but I have a strong reason to go beyond the dreaming stage - my daughter.  I didn't go to college after graduation because my parents told me not to get any loans.  They didn't have any money set aside for it and I didn't have enough to go to the great schools I could have, so I didn't.

She will.  I'll make sure of it. 

[Oh, and I'm going to live in Italy, too.  And write books.  And drink loads of red wine.  Expensive red wine.  Don't doubt me.]