I know this may shock you, but I did not win Powerball. I tried. I bought 10 of those bad boys. But no. Not a single digit overlapped with the winning numbers. It's probably a good thing. Money makes me nervous.

When I was about 14 years old, my family went on a trip to Las Vegas. I only really remember three things about that trip. 1) A prostitute's soliciting my dad at a red light while he sat in the passenger side of the car. With my mom driving. And his kids in the back seat. That hooker had cojones. Actually, looking back, maybe she actually did. She was quite tall. 2) Sitting down in our rental car after it had been baking in the sun all day and burning my back on the hot metal seat belt, which branded me with a figure-eight shape — a scar I still have remnants of on my back today. 3) Watching my dad get up from a table where he was playing blackjack. When I asked him whether he was starting to lose, he replied, "No, I was starting to win." My dad had lost 10 hands in a row before winning twice in a row and walking away. Always a small bettor, he left long before he could earn back the money he had lost. Apparently, my dad always walks away when he starts to win. The winning makes him nervous. Money makes him nervous. And I am my father's daughter.

Earlier this week, my husband and I, like so many Americans, gave in to the Powerball fantasy. We talked about what we would buy if we became instant billionaires. Our first thought: dragons! Our second thought: charity. Any charity. Just get it out of our pockets and into the hands of something good. Why sit on a billion when we could be curing childhood cancer, feeding a hungry nation or sponsoring the scientists who have the know-how to make dragons a reality?

I don't mean to suggest I would have given all of the money away. I'm not that good of a person. I would keep a small portion for my family and friends, but really, how much does one person need? I kind of like having monetary limitations. Saying no to buying a drink when I go out to eat keeps me grounded. I get anxious at the thought of having enough money to order my meal, a drink and four of the five most endangered species on the side. And then what if I'm too full to get around to eating one of these fancy side dishes? Well, then I just killed a white rhino for no reason! I guess I could always send the leftover meat to starving children, the way Baby did in "Dirty Dancing." But then I might wind up sending the rhino back to the country from whence it came, and that would just seem wrong. Do you see the kinds of hard decisions that come with money? It's not for the weak at heart!

That's why I know I need to give money away to do good and prevent myself from possibly doing bad. Not "bad" as in "evil." No, I mean "bad" as in "ridiculous." I saw the movie "Blank Check" as a kid, and there is no going back. In case you missed out on the joy of being a kid in the mid-'90s, "Blank Check" is the story of a kid who is given a blank check from a millionaire. He, in turn, uses it to make himself a millionaire, and it all gets awesome from there. (It is written by the late, great Blake Snyder. If you have any desire to be a screenwriter, do yourself a favor and read his "Save the Cat" series.) Mansions! Zip lines! Candy-filled corridors! Televisions! Limos! Parties! Swimming pools! The kid practically builds himself an amusement park in the suburbs. I have to tell ya, as a woman in her 30s with two kids, I doubt I could spend my money any better. And though my house would be bigger and my kids would have cooler toys — OK, OK, I would have cooler toys — I don't think I would turn into a very nice person. The white rhino's family would agree.

I'm glad I didn't win Powerball. Kinda.

Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, at http://www.facebook.com/katiedidhumor. To find out more about Katiedid Langrock and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

 Photo credit: Jeanelle Horcasitas