A weekend of intense spring cleaning yielded a mason jar full of coins. I’d put the jar by the door last night, thinking that I’d see it this morning on my way to work, take it with me, and cash it in at the bank. Arlo got to it before I did, though. When I reached the bottom of the stairs this morning, he was waiting for me with the jar and the following question.
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6 Comments
Because I invented the Ypsipanty, my son.
Sit down. It’s time I told you about your responsibilities as heir of the Ypsipanty fortune.
My grandpa used to give me a mason jar of change about that size every few months. I would sort it, count it, roll it, and then take it to the bank and deposit it. I always loved it more than just being handed $5 or something. I think my mom loved it because it kept me busy for awhile!
Aw. How cute!
Better that he confront you with this than your jar of toenail clippings.
Indeed! To him it was all the money in the world!