Cash In Our Pockets

After that first business trip to Europe, I decided that not seeing the world was a sin, and since I was raised Catholic, I knew all about sinning. As silly as it may sound, one of the things I love about Europe is their money. It reminds me of playing Monopoly with my mom and being very upset when I didn't get to own Pacific Avenue and its green companions.
She didn't like to play with me very often, I got rather pissy when I didn't win.

My mom turned 75 on February 25, so my brother and I gave her $100 in Euros. She's never seen European cash and I thought she'd get a kick out of getting some for her birthday. Plus, with some cash in hand, we won't have to worry about finding an ATM right away. I never like to get to the country I'm visiting without a little bit of the local currency readily available.

"How does these work?" she asked as if the bills were supposed to come with instructions.

"It's money!" I said. "You pay for things with it."

"Oh, they're very pretty," she said as if they were works of art that were supposed to be admired. "And blue, my favorite color."

Maybe that's why she always bought Boardwalk and Park Place. No wonder I lost.