Today, we played Monopoly. Even in hypothetical terms, I know I’m not cut out to be a landlord. I cried. And I didn’t stop crying, until my dad gave me money to get me out of bankruptcy. I have always been grateful my parents had money, There parents before me did not, but my parents were still grateful too. I have never known the harsh sting of poverty, until my dad gave me money to get out of bankruptcy. The Monopoly box is technically mine. We keep it in my room. But on it is labelled my sister’s name. So, whose is it? It’s all ours, my dad would say. Money doesn’t belong to anyone; we all share in this household. But I had the cello tape that put the tearing edges of the cardboard box back together. No-one shared that job with me. Today, we played Monopoly. And I put the tearing edges of the carboard box back together which is to say, I’ll probably be fine for a bit, but I’ll probably cry as I watch the carboard box split.
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