If I Were a Rich (Wo)Man?

If I were a rich man,
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
All day long I'd biddy biddy bum.
If I were a wealthy man.
I wouldn't have to work hard.
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
If I were a biddy biddy rich,
Yidle-diddle-didle-didle man.

After two weeks of swimming lessons at our community pool (I caved and became one of those mom) I have decided what I would do if the Lord decided that we should be rich. I would buy cans and cans of aerosol sunscreen by the case. I don't even want to hear a gasp nor mere mention of the ozone layer or environment. I am sick of sunscreen.

For a whopping $8.00 I have two choices. I can buy a can of aerosol sunscreen which will last exactly 2 applications for a family of five (I learned that lesson in Myrtle Beach last month) or the old fashioned kind of lotion that my kids whine is sticky, I whine is sticky and I hate applying, but will last weeks. I refuse to compromise my childrens' skin health and risk melanoma and I am a miser, so I have to stick with option two. But I still hate it.

So if you see me suddenly buying truckloads of aerosol sunscreen you will know that I have struck it rich or check the newspapers for a suspicious looking homeschooler slinking out of the local savings and loan after a big heist.

What would you do with a windfall of cash (and don't dare tell me something wise and practical)?