Pennies

I put the money in his hand.
“Pennies?” he asked. “Pennies!” he exclaimed. “The fact that you just included pennies in the mix reminds me of how lucky I am to be married to you. I’m reminded that you are the best person in the whole world.”** He handed the money to the cashier. “And, I’m reminded that we have about 2,000 of them around the house that need to be rolled.” I saw the excitement dancing in his eyes.

Nothing makes him happier than rolling pennies, turning them into the bank and getting real, green, cash dollars in return. Except, maybe, always having exactly the right amount of change to pay for things. He carries about 25$ worth of change around in his pocket every single day. And about 10$ of it is all pennies. I affectionately call it his City, as if each one of those little disks of metal were tiny people that are forced to live all together, squished and jostling against one another all the live-long day. I’m sure they can’t like it. Ching, ching, squish, ching. But, being the smaller and weaker life form, we force them to do our bidding. It’s socially acceptable.

** This isn’t exactly what he said. I can’t really remember what he said so I took the liberty of inserting what I thought was appropriate. I’m sure that it was really, really close, though. Or else it was just ‘Thanks.’ One or the other.