A wish list

A list of all the things I would buy if I suddenly became a billionaire:

All new underwear. And Bras. And shapewear.
A pair of tennis shoes. NO! Three pairs of tennis shoes.
Any type of blanket I’ve ever wanted in Marshals.
Bubble bath-and I would use the whole bottle on Sundays. Just because I can.
An endless supply of flowers to cut and arrange. (Which I would do myself because I am still one of the people).
All the soft PJs in Target. ALL OF THEM.
A velvet chaise lounge. (Because only fancy people have those.)
Every face mask known to man. ( I must test and evaluate them all).
The ridiculously overpriced aprons at Anthropologie. Which I only use for baking because I have hired a chef to do my cooking for me.
An infa-red sauna to be placed in my bathroom so I run back and forth from the tub to the sauna and call it a work out.
A live in food-babysitter to smack the baked goods out of my hands when I reach for them. (Which is about every 15 minutes).
All the expensive clothes I covet online that seems to be made strictly of chiffon and gauze and dug up from a victorian graveyard.
A life time supply of tasteecake peanut butter cakes.
A starbucks refresher machine.
Land. And then build little houses on it for all my favorite people and we would become a village of family and friends who no longer called one another or saw each other on holidays, but in fact, a group of people who communicate by screaming out the window at each other and inviting one another over for tea (I’ll bring the baked goods and flowers).