A DREAM HOUSE

When you visit my new home on May 2, bring your bathing suit because I’ve got an indoor pool. Well, not exactly. Let me explain.

As a cancer survivor, I am more than happy to support most any fundraiser in the fight against this pervasive and insidious disease.

When I heard about the Princess Margaret Home Lottery, I decided to buy a ticket for a chance to win one of ten grand prize properties or one of eighteen luxury cars. It’s for a great cause and after all, I’ve been on a roll recently with four consecutive free coffees at Tim’s over the past two weeks.

When I called to purchase a $100 ticket, Kirsten, the sales agent, asked if I’d like to buy a second ticket to double my chances at winning.

“How many tickets does the lottery hope to sell”, I asked.

“Gee, I don’t know”, replied Kirsten, “I’ll check that out for you.”

A few moments later she came back on the line with the answer, an astonishing 350,000.

“I think I’ll just purchase one ticket today thank you,” I answered.

In vain, Kirsten tried to upsell this Ebenezer not realizing that I was a math teacher who knows that the probability of winning the lottery with two tickets is really only 1/350,000 better than with one ticket, or roughly the same as the Leafs chances of winning the Stanley Cup in the next forty years.

A few days later, Terry and her friend Dianne were out for a walk in our neighborhood and came upon the lottery’s top prize, a dream house in Thornhill. Valued at 3.79 million dollars, the four bedroom mansion is so close to us that we’d hardly have to change our postal code if we won.

Terry and I have since toured the 7,662 sq. ft. house that features soaring ceilings, stunning white marble floors, gourmet kitchen, mezzanine sports lounge, wet sauna and an endless pool which I later discovered allows you to swim against a smooth current that’s fully adjustable to any speed or ability.

In addition, the grand prize comes with 2012 BMW coupe valued at $43,000. When I inquired whether one could take the cash instead of the house, a lottery official explained that for tax reasons, one has to live in the house at least one year before selling. My curiosity now piqued, I asked about the taxes on such a building.

“Oh, they’re $38,000 a year,”came the answer. Now I understood why the car could be surrendered for its cash value.

I don’t think Terry and I would do well living in a mansion, especially one without an elevator or a live-in butler. But hey, we’d be willing to give it a good shot.