As a kid I was fascinated with coins. Every few weeks my father would count his coins and roll them into coin wrappers. I vividly remember the first time I helped him count the change. He let me start with the pennies, because they were, (of course), the easiest coins to count. My dad has always kept his change in the same container. An old cheese curls container, that is roughly twice the size of a package of Pringles. I can picture that container as clear as day. I know the background is blue and the words ‘Cheese Curls’ appear in orange across the side.
When I was a little girl I was given a silver piggy bank to keep my coins. I could’ve sworn the piggy bank had been my father’s, but I asked him recently about it and he couldn’t remember where it came from. Ever since I can remember I have used that small piggy bank to hold my change. It traveled to my dorm room, my first apartment after college, and eventually my first home.
Initially, I fed that piggy bank by raiding my mom’s purse for change. Back then she carried an extra large pocketbook and I could always find loose change hidden in it’s crevices. She jokes to this day that I accumulated hundreds of dollars by picking her pockets. I asked for my dad’s coins too, but unlike my mom he wouldn’t part with his change. Oh, if I needed a quarter or two to finish a roll he’d chip in, but otherwise I knew better than to ask dad.
I have vivid memories of my dad counting out coins, placing them into piles, rolling them into wrappers, and driving to the bank to cash them in. I remember a few occasions where I held the rolled coins in my lap while we drove to the bank.
In the past, whenever my piggy bank filled with coins I would dump out the coins and roll them into wrappers, but these days with coin counting centers the need for counting and rolling coins has clearly diminished. Still, every once in awhile I count out my coins, just so I can think back to those early childhood days.