On Smart Financing

"Autism" is a pretty vague word, and usually conjures questions about my brother's penchant for Wapner and his ability to count cards. For clarity's sake, I usually describe him as a three hundred pound five year old, who has psychotic hallucinations. I think this paints the right picture - "Dora the Explorer" blaring at full volume while Daniel, surrounded by enough empty hot dog packages to choke a brontosaurus, camel-clutches a goblin who may or may not exist.
The only characteristics that belie Daniel's status as Wisconsin's Most Hulked-Out Kindergartener are One) his voracious Jungle Fever (with particular focus on Lil' Kim) and Two) his miserly sense of financing. In a good week Daniel makes about twenty dollars packaging knee braces, and if my mother doesn't immediately take him to the bank to cash his check, it's like Black Tuesday all over again. I once asked him to borrow a dollar for a soda and his brow furrowed like Justice Alito's. You could tell that no one, in the entire span of human life on this planet, had stared down a weightier decision. Not Pontius Pilate, not Batman, not anyone. I ended up being denied.
That being said, when asked what he would do with a million dollars, Daniel immediately responded that he would buy "a truckload of Cheezits". He said it with the same tone a stockbroker might use say "I would put half of it in mutual funds," like it was probably the smartest investment he would ever make. It's probably good that he'll earn less than a grand this year.