Since his class at studied the California gold rush, my youngest child has been fascinated with gold.
He has panned for gold with a gold panning kit we bought for the kids. He has read books about gold. He has even inquired whether he could find gold in the creek at .
Above all else, he began using the expression “worth your weight in gold” every chance he got.
If I made him a sandwich, he said, “Dad, you’re worth your weight in gold.”
If I took a knot out of his shoelaces, he said, “Dad, you’re worth your weight in gold.”
Since his class had the unit on the California gold rush, I’ve been told I’m worth my weight in gold a few dozen times.
Recently, when my youngest child was telling me I was worth my weight in gold, his older brother chimed in that I would probably be worth a billion dollars in gold.
“I admit I’m carrying around a few extra pounds,” I said to my teen son. “But do you really believe I’d be worth anywhere near a billion dollars in gold?”
“You’re a big guy, Dad,” my teen son said.
“You have to be kidding me. Even with the price of gold where it is, I can’t weigh as much as a billion dollars in gold,” I said.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” my teen son said.
After finding the price for a troy ounce of gold, my teen son verified my weight. He put me on a scale, not wanting to take my word for it the way the DMV does. After a little number crunching, we had my weight in gold.
It turns out that I’m worth around $6 million dollars in gold.
“I told you I wouldn’t be worth a billion dollars in gold,” I said to my teen son.
“Yeah, but you could stand to lose about $600,000 worth of weight,” my teen said. “I’m only worth $2.4 million in gold.”
Throughout the whole ordeal I was pretty jolly, but to tell the truth there’s nothing quite as cruel as to be told you’re overweight to the tune of $600,000 worth of gold.
My youngest, having discovered how much gold is worth per ounce, has started to use the expression less and less, and never for anything trivial.
I took him out so he could ride his scooter. I was expecting his familiar refrain, but he didn’t give it to me.
After going several days without him using the expression, I asked, “Aren’t I still worth my weight in gold?”
“Nah. That’s a lot of money,” he said.
So while my youngest has stopped telling me I’m worth my weight in gold, I still have to live with the fact that my weight in gold is $6 million and rising.
If the price of gold keeps going up like it has been, who knows, my weight in gold just might reach a billion dollars.
