“Mummy,” Belle asked me last week, “would you eat a poo for a million pounds?”
“My own poo or someone else’s?” I asked, as clearly there is an important difference morally.
“You own poo,” she reassured me.
“Yes,” I said.
She looked horrified.
“That’s disgusting,” she said, clearly speaking as someone who has never had to pay a bill in their life, “I would never eat a poo.”
“Good for you,” I said, “but a million pounds is an awful lot of money. It would change your life forever. Eating a poo would be over really quickly.”
She looked like she would never quite be able to think of me in the same way again.
It got me thinking though about exactly where my boundaries would lie – how little money would I need to be offered to eat my own poo? I didn’t dwell on it for long as I don’t imagine it’s a situation I’m ever going to actually find myself in and the thought of it was making me feel a little queasy/ashamed.
What other things would I be prepared to do for a million pounds though? Would I sleep with a stranger? (Yes.) Would I murder someone with my own hands in cold blood? (No.) What cruel ways for me to humilate myself might someone be able to come with that would warrant the cash?
I certainly don’t feel like money is everything but I would like to just not have to think about it. Money can’t buy you happiness but it can buy you a certain amount of freedom – it gives you choices, and sometimes it would be nice to be able to choose. I would like to own a house one day for instance, to know that it was mine, and I think eating a poo might be worth that security.
What would you be prepared to do for a million pounds and where would you draw the line?