Today’s post is about money. Money is a complicated topic, and a source of much consternation for me. Money angst aside, I’m a saver. I always have been, and here’s why:
This is my first piggy bank. My parents are the actual “mom and pop” operation that you can only find in towns with historic town squares and fewer than three stoplights. It’s a drug store, so my dad used big empty pill bottles as piggy banks. There was one for each of the four kids, lined up on the very highest shelf. Every so often, we had the opportunity to help my dad with little chores around the store. And any money we earned was put into our bottle.
From time to time, my dad would take them down and let us count the money. I remember always feeling awed by the weight of the bottle (most of the loot was in coins). This last Christmas, my dad gave each of us our bottles, because he was cleaning and figured he had no reason to keep them around. It made me a little bit sad to take it, because I felt like it was the end of something important.
I brought it home and put it on my bookshelf and it sits in a place of honor among my favorite books. I have no idea how much is in there. It can’t be much. It doesn’t even matter, because that old plastic bottle is worth far more to me than anything I could ever put into it.