I approached my wife with a little trepidation. I don’t know why.

I should have no worries asking her about the fun things I want to do. We understand that parts of our personality differ so we might each want to strike out on our own at times.

This works out for me both ways. I get to run off and have my fun, and I don’t have to go see “Les Miserables” and things like that.

But, this time, I had some concerns. So I just asked the question and hoped nothing bad would happen.

“Do you mind if I plan a trip to Vegas for myself to cash in my winning ticket?”

She looked at me funny for a second before saying something I never expected to hear.

“What winning ticket?”

Let me go back in time for a bit. My wife had a chance to go to Vegas last spring for work. She took a few minutes out of her schedule to go to the sportsbook to make a special purchase.

For most of the last seven months, the $10 ticket on the Ravens to win the Super Bowl sat among a pile of papers in our computer room. When Baltimore used an improbably touchdown pass in its upset win of Denver a month or so ago, I made sure to find the ticket and put it in a prominent place.

I didn’t truly expect to win the bet when I had Maria buy the ticket. I hoped my team would win the Super Bowl. I wanted my team to win the Super Bowl. But I couldn’t get my hopes up too much until the big game approached.

Now I have a trip to Las Vegas to plan. Once she remembered buying the ticket, I got full blessing to go. The payout won’t pay for the whole thing, but I can stretch those dollars if I don’t aim too high.

Besides, the last time I traveled to Sin City, I booked a low-cost room and ended up staying in a two-story penthouse suite because some nice person at the front desk took pity on me for some reason. Sure, the place didn’t have the greatest air conditioning (this was in July), and some of the furnishings may have pre-dated my birth, but I scored a penthouse suite with no real effort.

Maybe my lucky streak will continue. Maybe I will cash in my ticket and turn that into a huge windfall. Maybe I will get upgraded to another nice room.

In reality, however, the end of my five-year absence from adult Disneyland will probably result in staying up too late, eating too many rich foods and a fair to middling gambling record.

That doesn’t matter to me, however. Regardless of what happens, I will know that I paid for part of the trip on one bet I made, a bet which I had to wait more than half a year to win. That’s why I deserve this trip more than anything.

At the very least, I can place another $10 on the Ravens for next year and cross my fingers.