Counting Pennies

My sister and I go away for a few days a year. We've gone to Ann Arbor and we've gone to Frankenmuth. We have a great time talking, laughing, sometimes crying and shopping, shopping, shopping. We LOVE Birch Run near Frankenmuth.
I decided to start saving early so I could have a lot of money to play with. I save change. I have a cute piggy bank that matches my dishes, so that is where I put my change.
As I was counting it the other day, I remembered that I used to do the same thing with my dad when I was little.
I wasn't allowed to play in my parents bedroom. It was their space. But a couple of times a week I could go in. It was a big room that held their double bed, an armoir, a large dresser and my mom's vanity. The armoir was the place that all things saved were put - at least that's what I thought. Mom had her fur coat in there and at the bottom were mason jars full of pennies.
My dad would put his pennies in the jars through a slit in the lid of the canning jar.
Maybe every other month my dad and I would pull out the jars and count the pennies. He would sit on the bed and I would sit next to him with enough room between us to put piles of pennies. I would count out 10 pennies and put them in a stack. By the time we were done counting there were stacks of ten pennies all over the place. I remember once counting out $18.00 in pennies.
Eventually the pennies were put in the bank in my own account. But it wasn't the money. It was the time that I spent in my parents bedroom (that room that held so many secrets and wonders!) counting pennies with my daddy and having my mom close by. It was a family affair. I remember lots of smiles and giggles and lots and lots of talking with each other.